


Blinded by Science

by Arionrhod, McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 19:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Archaeologist Severus Snape knows the Egyptian necropolis of Saqqara better than any man alive, but he's paid a heavy price for his devotion to his work, causing him to shun all relationships. But when Remus Lupin shows up, challenging Severus' professional knowledge and invading his personal space, Severus finds that he is in danger of losing both his career and his heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Snupin Santa 2010.

“I do not believe the audacity of this! It’s outrageous!” Severus stormed into Albus’ office without knocking, crossing to his desk and waving an open journal under his nose. It was a testament to either Albus’ rock-steady nerves or to the frequency of such an occurrence that he didn’t flinch; instead, he merely raised his gaze from the report he’d been reading and glanced at the senior - and some, especially himself, would say most brilliant - member of his department with a quirked brow.

“What has your knickers twisted this time, Severus?” he asked, his tone holding a tiny trace of what might have been amusement, something that just might have been a twinkle in the blue eyes which regarded Severus over the rims of his half-moon glasses. “I hope you didn’t run afoul of the Board of Directors again; I don’t know that I have enough of my soul left to mortgage after the last time.”

Severus stared hard at Albus for a moment before giving a snort and dropping the journal onto the desk. He knew he owed Albus, the head of the Department of Ancient Egypt and Sudan of the British Museum, a great deal. Albus had stood behind him at a very dark time in his life, and while Severus appreciated it more than he’d probably ever expressed, it sometimes sat ill with him to be so dependent upon anyone’s good will. Even someone who’d single-handedly saved his career. 

“Nothing quite so dire,” he replied dryly, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Albus a mild glare to express his displeasure. “I simply cannot believe the drivel which supposedly respectable journals will publish these days! Lupin, the so-called prodigy of McGonagall’s from Oxford, thinks he’s found the mythical tomb of Imhotep! Lost for forty five centuries, and this - this _upstart_ claims that it has been lying under our noses this entire time!”

“Indeed?” There was no mistaking the sparkle in Albus’ eyes this time, and Severus snarled briefly as Albus picked up the journal and quickly scanned the article. Severus saw his eyes widen slightly, then narrow in speculation before Albus looked back to him once more.

“It seems to me as though he’s posed some intriguing possibilities,” Albus said, tapping the journal to emphasize his point. “If you accept his translation of the Sekhemkhet graffito and its implication, it fits, and certainly the site is at least contemporary with when Imhotep’s tomb must have been under construction.”

“ _If_ you accept his translation!” Severus’ voice dripped with derision, and he couldn’t help snarling slightly. Everything about Lupin and his claims irritated Severus. It wasn’t just that Lupin had attended Oxford rather than Cambridge as Severus had, or even that the man had made some rather interesting discoveries of previously unknown graffito - scribblings the builders of the ancient monuments had left on the stones of their construction - at Saqqara, which was the necropolis which Severus practically considered his personal property. 

No, it was the way people seemed to fawn over the man, as though he were some wunderkind for having stumbled upon something that hadn’t been found before in an area which had been thoroughly explored for the last seventy-five years. It wasn’t as though Lupin was even a pure Egyptologist! He’d started out exploring the burial mounds and pyramids of Meso-America, only changing his focus to Egypt in the last five years, while Severus had spent his entire life immersed in Saqqara and its history, earning his Doctorate of Archeology based on his work in scientific excavation practices which helped to eliminate the random digging of the past and helped to preserve items which otherwise might have been destroyed. And the very subject of Lupin’s article in the Archeological Digest implied that Severus, his father, his grandfather, and the host of others who had excavated Saqqara for almost eight decades had missed the veritable Holy Grail of Egyptology - the tomb of Imhotep, the vizier of Djoser, who had _invented_ the pyramid, constructed the first of them, and had later been deified by the ancient Egyptians for his knowledge in not only architecture, but arts and medicine. Despite the recent misappropriation of his name by some ridiculous Hollywood studio, Imhotep had had more influence on Egyptian funerary and architectural practices than any other single man in history.

“As it happens, I’m inclined to do so,” Albus replied, pulling Severus out of the contemplation of his outrage at Lupin’s very existence. 

“What?” Severus reared back as though Albus had slapped him, stunned that his mentor would take up Lupin’s case. “How can you possibly believe that Lupin could be correct? I know some people think he’s some sort of genius with languages, but I’ve studied hieroglyphs for my entire life, and the literal translation of what he founds means exactly what it says!”

“Perhaps - but Lupin really _is_ a genius with languages.” Albus inclined his head, looking at Severus blandly. “I’ve met him before, you know.”

“You have?” Severus’ eyes narrow, and his lip curled in displeasure. “You never mentioned that.”

“Well, he was only about ten years old at the time.” Albus chuckled at the look of disbelief, swiftly followed by suspicion, on Severus’ face. “No, dear boy, I’ve not been courting another successor behind your back! I met Lupin when he was a lad, here on a school trip. Serious little chap he was, pale and rather sickly looking, but obviously intelligent. I’d just been appointed curator of the museum then, and I was enchanted with seeing how people regarded my domain. I went down to the Egyptian galleries, and there, in the midst of all these laughing children was one little boy, standing in front of the Rosetta Stone, writing on a tablet and seeming to mumble under his breath. I drew closer, wondering what he was doing, and as I did, I realized he was actually murmuring the Ancient Greek inscription at the bottom, while drawing the hieroglyphs at the top which matched.”

“He was reading Ancient Greek at the age of ten,” Severus scoffed, his tone conveying his disbelief. “How gullible do you think I am?”

“I’m not trying to trick you, Severus,” Albus said, his expression serious. “Apparently Lupin has a natural affinity for languages. I also learned he suffered from a rather lengthy illness as a child which left him bedridden for several months, and during that time, all he had for distraction was learning. So by ten, he was fluent in French, Spanish, Latin, and Ancient Greek. According to Minerva, he’s tacked on more, including both Modern and Ancient Egyptian, Arabic, and Nubian.”

“So you trust his translation rather than mine?” Severus asked stiffly.

“It’s not that,” Albus denied, leaning back in his chair and regarding Severus with an air of paternal indulgence that set Severus’ teeth on edge. “Technically, your translation is absolutely correct. But sometimes things can have two meanings, and what you see with your eyes doesn’t mean precisely what you think it does, so his translation has merit as well.” He smiled. “It’s all a matter of how you look at it.”

Severus continued to frown, but he knew Albus too well. There was no way the old man was going to give him a straight answer. “There are not two ways to look at the translation,” Severus replied, giving a haughty sniff. “Anyone with a brain knows that. And I know Saqqara better than any man alive.” With that, he turned and headed towards the door, back stiff and straight with righteous indignation.

But as he left, he thought he heard Albus say something under his breath.

“Yes, you do. But what you don’t know might surprise you.”

* * *

Severus wasn’t a fan of conferences as a rule, even when he was presenting his work to a generally receptive audience and answering their questions. He usually garnered some bit of admiration for his accomplishments, which was a nice stroke for his ego, but the truth of the matter was that he didn’t like people very much. Even his own colleagues - or perhaps _especially_ his own colleagues - could be a stuffy, tedious lot, and Severus was, first and foremost, a field archaeologist. He was most content when on a dig, making the discoveries which validated his theories, finding treasure which human eyes hadn’t gazed upon in thousands of years. Unfortunately presentations were a necessary, if somewhat annoying, part of the job, and Albus had given him no choice about presenting at the annual meeting of the World Archaeological Society. Severus had recently discovered some rather fine canopic jars in one of the queen’s tombs at Saqqara, and it was important to get them exposure on the international stage. Everyone survived and continued their work through contributions of wealthy patrons, and so it was a necessary evil if Severus wanted to continue with his field work.

Unfortunately, being a presenter also meant attending a cocktail reception where the philanthropists could come and check out the archaeologists, almost as though they were prize cattle being displayed before auction. It offended Severus’ pride to an extent, especially as he felt awkward in a suit and tie, and his height and rake thin frame made him feel almost ungainly. Still, he kept his chin up, refusing to hide in a corner; if people wanted to see Severus Snape, then see him they would, but his disdainful stare dared anyone to say a word to him.

He didn’t care much for alcohol because he didn’t like having his intellect muddled, especially when there might be people who wished him ill among the attendees. Archaeologists might not be thought of as a violent bunch as a rule, but Severus had learned early and well not to trust anyone, and verbal knives could kill a career just as thoroughly as a metal one in the back. So he held a glass of white wine in one long-fingered hand, not drinking from it, as he stood to one side of the gathering, mercifully alone and bored out of his mind. He didn’t normally pay much attention to his peers at these occasions, but when a voice beside him greeted someone with genuine pleasure, he turned his gaze in that direction, and suddenly he felt as though he’d been punched in the gut.

The man approaching his position - or rather, that of the person beside him - wore a suit, but it was almost as though he had unpacked it and donned it without bothering to hang it up first. But the rumpled look suited him in some strange way that Severus couldn’t quite name. His light brown hair was overly long, as though he didn’t bother getting it cut very often, but it looked as soft and shiny as silk. He wore silver framed glasses, behind which Severus could see brilliant blue eyes which held both intelligence and a touch of humor. He looked young, so he was probably a graduate student attending with the professor he worked for rather than a presenter, but Severus didn’t care. The man could have recited the ABCs and Severus would probably be unable to do anything but stare at him, the sudden, deep attraction he felt stealing his breath away. It was the first time anything like it had happened to him, and he had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to grab the man by his broad, sturdy shoulders, push him up against the wall, and snog him senseless. As it was, Severus knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He just hoped the intense heat coiling in his stomach didn’t show on his face.

“Bill! It’s good to see you again,” the grad student said, smiling warmly at the man standing beside Severus as the two shook hands. “How have you been?”

“Busy! And not just with work, for once.” Bill puffed out his chest and beamed proudly. “My daughter just turned three months old.” 

“Congratulations!” The grad student appeared surprised by this news, but his congratulations sounded sincere. “It sounds like you’ve had your hands full.”

“I have, yes, but not so full that I couldn’t bang out an article on Egyptian curse folklore and its connections to archaeological superstitions that have grown up surrounding certain sites for the conference,” Bill replied.

“Sounds fascinating,” the grad student said with an apparent lack of sarcasm. “I’ll check the schedule for it.” He glanced casually over at Severus and gave him a quick once-over, a fleeting assessment that made Severus wonder if he imagined the appreciative gleam that flickered briefly in those blue eyes. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” 

Bill glanced at Severus, seeming startled by the question, and shook his head. “We’re... uh ... not really friends, but sure, I can provide introductions. Dr. Snape, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Dr. Severus Snape.” 

Severus suddenly felt as though fate were laughing at him mockingly.

There could simply be no other explanation for why the first man that Severus had even noticed in years would turn out to be the very one who was encroaching on the site that Severus felt was his own personal territory. The famous Step Pyramid of Djoser in Saqqara and the surrounding burials had been explored, researched, excavated, and cared for by members of his family for three generations now. His grandfather, Horace Prince, had worked with Cecil Firth, the first Egyptologist to work on the site, and his father, Tobias Snape, had been the Old Man’s student. Now this _upstart_ was daring to challenge Severus on what was his life’s work, and so of course, he had to turn out to be the most attractive man Severus had ever seen.

“Lupin,” Severus replied, his voice colder than a desert night as he drew himself up proudly to his full height. “I read your article in Archaeological Digest.” His tone told everyone exactly what his opinion of it had been in no uncertain terms. 

Anyone with good sense might have taken the cue to flee, but either Lupin was lacking good sense or he didn’t understand social cues, because he held out his hand and offered Severus a friendly smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Snape,” Lupin said cheerfully. “I’ve read all about you and your family, too. I almost feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.” 

Severus regarded Lupin’s hand with the same wariness with which he would have viewed a scorpion, ignoring the insane desire he felt to wrap his finger around Lupin’s and pull him closer. He didn’t return the smile; instead, he raised his untouched glass of wine to his lips and sipped at it to avoid freeing his hand to take Lupin’s.

When he lowered the glass, Severus merely raised a brow. “I know Saqqara better than any man alive,” he replied. “I will be returning when this conference is over.”

“Really?” Rather than scampering off with his figurative tail between his legs at the set-down, Lupin brightened with visible interest even as he lowered his hand, and he even took a step closer to Severus - which Bill seemed to view as an excellent opportunity to make his escape. “Perhaps we could compare notes, then. Maybe over a drink after our respective presentations? I’d love to discuss the site with you.” 

Lupin was mocking him. There was simply no other explanation for the fact that the man refused to be daunted by put-downs which would have had half of the docents of the British Museum running away screaming. Severus’ eyes narrowed, and he was quite happy to let the bizarre attraction he felt toward Lupin be buried under a tide of anger. Even in his righteous fury, however, Severus was enough aware of his surroundings to not punch Lupin or scream in his face.

“We have nothing to discuss, _Doctor_ ,” Severus replied in a flat, wooden tone. “Your speculations are unfounded and based on faulty source material. I have no time to discuss fantasies with someone when I have real work to do.”

But again, the quelling tone and icy demeanor failed to achieve Severus’ goal of reducing Lupin to an ego-flayed, whimpering puddle. Instead, Lupin cocked one eyebrow at him quizzically. 

“I rather enjoy discussing fantasies,” Lupin said, his smile never faltering, and there was an undercurrent of _something_ in his voice that suggested he was _enjoying_ the conversation, such as it was. “But I don’t suppose we know each other well enough for that, so I’ll settle for letting you tell me all the numerous ways you think my work is wrong. As you said, you know the site better than anyone, and I’d welcome your insights.” 

Severus felt disconcerted by Lupin’s persistence, and it was a feeling he didn’t care for in the slightest. He’d lost his taste for accepting nasty comments back when the scandal concerning his father had broken, and he couldn’t help but think that Lupin was making sport of him. After all, Lupin had made it a point to say he’d read all about Severus’ family, which no doubt meant that Lupin felt all Severus’ work was worthless in light of Tobias’ crimes. The fact that Lupin might possibly be flirting with him Severus dismissed as overactive imagination brought on by the sudden activation of his long-dormant libido.

Severus stopped a passing waiter by putting a hand on his shoulder, nearly dragging the startled man off his feet. He placed his wineglass on the empty tray, his eyes never leaving Lupin’s face, and then he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Lupin with distaste. “If you’ve read _my_ work, the ways in which your own is flawed is self evident - or would be to anyone with a brain larger than a scarab beetle. You are amazingly arrogant to believe that you could have found what so many others have sought simply via a translation on a tablet! I don’t wish to discuss anything else with you, Lupin, now or in the future. I consider you a poseur. Have I made myself perfectly clear, or should I begin again and explain it using smaller words?”

“Oh, your message is quite clear,” Lupin replied, his smile taking on a predatory tilt that was enhanced by a challenging gleam in his eyes behind the scholarly glasses. “As it happens, I _have_ read your work - multiple times, in fact - and I’ve admired all your insights as well as your discoveries. When it comes to field work, I’ll gladly concede your superiority, but when it comes to languages...” He shrugged and spread his hands. “It’s my little talent. That’s not arrogance; that’s a fact. But given our mutual interest in the site and in the location of Imhotep’s tomb, I don’t see why we couldn’t combine our talents and turn the world of archaeology upside down together.” 

The way Lupin was looking at him was doing very dangerous things to Severus, sending unwanted tingles of awareness along his spine. His sex life was so much of a non-issue in the last twenty years that he hadn’t cared one way or the other if anyone knew he was gay or even suspected it; he rather thought, in fact, that most people would shy away from any speculation on the subject just because of his personality. He knew he wasn’t attractive, and he really didn’t care about that, either. But somehow Lupin must have found out and was playing it for his own agenda, apparently intent on using Severus, no doubt to get at the Saqqara excavation. What other reason could there be for him to look at Severus in such a fashion?

“You want to use my connections and my influence with the Supreme Council of Antiquities, as well as my research license, in order to pursue your own explorations without having to undergo the lengthy and exhaustive process of obtaining your own.” Severus’ face was flushed, and his voice had deepened and taken on a dark, menacing tone. “Yes, I see exactly what your _interest_ is, Lupin, because I’m not the fool you believe me to be. But I’m telling you now that I won’t be used. Not by anyone, and certainly not by you.”

With that, Severus turned on his heel and began to stalk away, his chin held high and his back so stiff and straight it could have been used for a ruler.

“I’ve got my own connections and influence,” Lupin called after him. “I _am_ interested, but not in that!” 

Severus didn’t deign to acknowledge that he’d heard. He could see people turning around to look at him, no wonder trying to figure out what had happened between he and Lupin, but he didn’t care. No, he was onto Remus Lupin now, and he wasn’t the idiot Lupin believed him to be. Severus had fought hard to get where he was, and he’d fight even harder to stay there.

Even if it meant punching Remus Lupin right in his gorgeous, sexy mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

“That was a great talk, Dr. Snape. I’m certain everyone will be abuzz about it at the dinner this evening.” 

The vivacious female graduate student was beaming at Severus like a proud mother as he left the stage, and Severus stared at her, wondering if the shade of pink of her hair somehow indicated her brain had been damaged by the chemicals. Either that, or the institution of archaeology was under siege by an onslaught of young, bubbly people with suicidal tendencies crossing their elders. Whatever it was, Severus wanted no part of it, and he ignored her completely as he turned and headed toward the rear door of the auditorium, wanting more than anything to escape to his room and avoid the endless questioning of his peers who wanted everything from the proverbial horse’s mouth rather than sensibly reading about his work in the conference notes.

With a barely audible sigh of relief, he made it to the hallway, having avoided being stopped. He was staying in the same hotel where the conference was being held, fortunately, and so he made good his escape, heading toward the elevator and the blessed isolation of his room.

“Ohmigod, Dr. Lupin!” Behind him, he could hear the pink-haired girl’s voice growing breathy - as well as the hero worship in her voice. “I didn’t know you were in there, too! I wish I had! I wanted to ask you about your article. Maybe we could go somewhere and talk about it?” she asked hopefully. 

“I’m sorry, but I have other plans.” Lupin sounded polite but also distracted. “Dr. Snape! Hold the door!” 

Severus bolted into the elevator and mashed the “close door” button, but Lupin hopped in before the doors could shut, and he flashed a grin at Severus, as if he knew exactly what Severus had tried to do. 

“I enjoyed your talk,” he said. “You had fascinating insights, as usual.” 

Severus didn’t answer, only giving Lupin a look of scant favor before crossing his arms over his chest and staring ahead with the stony indifference of a sphinx. The man was insufferable, and Severus ignored the clean scent of him that was hard to miss in the enclosed space.

“What floor?” Lupin asked, moving to the button panel. “Or would you just like to go to mine?” 

_Your floor, your room,_ Severus’ traitorous libido responded. He frowned fiercely at the door, a tic starting to develop at the corner of his eye.

Lupin waited for a moment, but when Severus refused to respond, Lupin shrugged and punched a button, setting the elevator in motion. 

“My floor, then,” he said casually, sliding his hands into his pockets. He was silent for a couple of seconds, just long enough for Severus to think maybe Lupin would shut the hell up and leave him alone, but then Lupin piped up again. “For the record, I don’t care about your family scandal. I don’t believe you had anything to do with your father’s activities.” 

Of all the things Severus could imagine Lupin saying, _that_ certainly wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t help but turn his head, staring at Lupin with a frozen expression, wondering if this was some ploy to trick him into something he’d regret. But very, very few people had ever said that to him, and the words got under Severus’ defenses.

“I didn’t,” he said stiffly. “I turned him in, but people think that was just a ploy to cover up my own guilt.” That had been the worst part of it, really; his father had branded him a traitor, while only a handful of people knew the price Severus had paid for doing the right thing. He glared at Lupin. “People are idiots.” He left Lupin to draw his own conclusion as to Severus’ thoughts on _his_ intelligence.

“Dumbledore vouched for you,” Lupin said, turning so he could lean against the elevator wall and face Severus. “That counts for a lot in my book, but so does what I’ve learned about you. I’ve paid attention to your work, your interviews - your career. There’s been no hint of scandal, and you don’t behave like someone who’s got something to hide. It’s easy to believe accusations, and hurling them is even easier. Paying attention to evidence is harder, but digging things up and putting together pieces is what we do, isn’t it?”

Severus couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he stared at Lupin in disbelief. “Do you really mean that, or is this a trap, or some subtle form for torture?” he demanded harshly. “I warn you, I won’t be played with, Lupin. I may not have committed crimes in the past, but I reserve the right to do so in the future if adequately provoked.”

Lupin’s expression registered surprise bordering on shock at the outburst, and he swiftly hit a button that brought the elevator to a stop, gazing at Severus with what appeared to be complete earnestness. “I realize you have every reason to chalk up whatever I say to an attempt to manipulate you and use you for your contacts and research, but believe me, I _don’t_ need your contacts, and I’m capable of doing my own research. I don’t _need_ anything from you, and I’m not trying to trap or play you.” 

“Then what do you want?” Severus demanded, thrown off balance and not liking it at all. “I don’t understand you at all, Lupin, and that annoys me.”

The earnestness in Lupin’s expression faded into something far more intense as he gazed at Severus. “What I want,” he said as he pushed himself away from the wall and took a couple of steps toward Severus, “is for you to have dinner with me.” 

Involuntarily Severus backed up, something in Lupin’s gaze making him feel as though he were being stalked by a predator. He suddenly found it hard to breathe, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, he thought that Lupin must be able to hear it. “Dinner,” he repeated dumbly. He stopped abruptly as his back hit the wall of the elevator, and he took a deep breath, gathering his scattered wits.

Glaring at Lupin, not happy at being backed into a corner - and yet, ironically, oddly aroused by it - Severus glared. “Fine,” he snapped. “If a meal will cause you to stop hounding me, I’ll do it.” He tipped his chin up. “You’re buying.”

Lupin smiled - a genuine smile of pure pleasure - and stepped back, hitting the button to set the elevator in motion again. “Dinner, my treat,” he agreed. “If you don’t enjoy yourself, I won’t hound you for another date.” 

_That_ made Severus blink. “Date?” he asked in a strangled tone, wondering if all the air had drained out of the small space or if something else was making him suddenly lightheaded. “I thought this was about work, Lupin.”

“Well, we can talk shop if you like,” Lupin said, giving an insouciant shrug. “But yes, I want to go on a date with you, not on a professional dinner meeting.” 

Severus was almost afraid to hear the answer, but the question was out before he could stop himself. “What in the world makes you think I’m gay?” he asked.

“I have a pretty good gay-dar,” Lupin said, his smile turning wicked. “But mostly it was the way you were looking at me when I walked up to Bill.” 

“Oh.” Severus felt himself flushing, which annoyed him, and he tipped his chin up and glared at Lupin down the length of his nose, giving a disdainful sniff. “You have a rather high opinion of yourself, Lupin.”

But to his annoyance, Lupin grinned rather than appearing to be put in his place as Severus intended. “Is my gay-dar off, though, or are we going on that date?”

“Oh, very well,” Severus replied ungraciously, although a part of him was just a tiny bit pleased. “I don’t know why I’m doing this other than to make you stop pestering me.” He glared at Remus. “I still think your ideas about Imhotep’s tomb are total nonsense suitable only for the tabloids, not serious scientific journals. A rare steak isn’t going to soften me in the slightest when it comes to that!”

Lupin schooled his features into an expression of solemnity that was belied by the twinkle in his pale eyes. “Duly noted,” he said. “So would you like to have dinner at the hotel or go out somewhere?” 

Severus mulled that over for a moment. The disadvantage of eating in the hotel was that there were many people who knew both of them around. The advantage was that those people might interrupt, which could come in handy if things went badly. Of course, Severus wasn’t shy, and he didn’t care what Lupin thought of him - or so he told himself sternly. He could always get up and walk out if he wished, no matter where they were. And he still believed Lupin had an ulterior motive, despite his protestations. Severus simply didn’t trust easily, and Lupin kept throwing him off guard, which didn’t help.

“Out,” he said firmly. “And no, I don’t care where, although rest assured I shall mock you for a poor choice. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to my room. I’ve had all the interaction I can handle for the moment.”

“I’ll get some recommendations,” Lupin said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He stepped out and then poked his head back in, holding the doors open. “Meet you in the lobby at seven? I’d offer to pick you up, but I don’t know your room number.”

Quelling a mad impulse to give it to him, Severus merely nodded. “That will be acceptable,” he replied. “Seven, in the lobby. If you aren’t there, I shall return to my room and hold you to your word to leave me alone.”

Lupin flashed him another one of those disarming smiles. “Nothing on earth could keep me away. See you at seven!” 

With that, he disappeared, and the doors closed, leaving Severus alone in the elevator at last. 

For a moment, Severus simply stared at the blank metal door, wondering how in the hell Lupin had managed to manipulate him into this situation. No one ever made Severus do something he didn’t want to do, and yet here he was, about to go on a date with a man whose very existence was an affront to him. 

Sighing, he pressed the button for his floor, and waited as the elevator carried him up. Pride wouldn’t let him back out now, and he could always hope that Lupin changed his mind and didn’t show up. Then he’d be rid of the man and his bizarre advances. Yes, that would be for the best; he didn’t trust Remus Lupin, and he certainly didn’t want the man in his life. He didn’t need anyone, and he certainly didn’t want anyone.

He told himself that all the way to his room, but somehow no matter how many times he repeated it, a stubborn part simply refused to believe.

* * *

The restaurant Lupin took him to had the elegantly understated decor of a place that was probably far more expensive than Severus would have chosen, and he grudgingly awarded Lupin a mental point for good taste. He wasn’t thrilled to be out on this date, but at least he’d get a decent meal out of it.

If the butterflies in his stomach would settle down enough to allow him to eat.

He’d gone down to the lobby five minutes before they were supposed to meet, wondering which would be worse: for Lupin to stand him up, thereby proving that Severus had been right in not trusting the man, or for Lupin to actually decide to show up and force Severus to spend an entire evening talking to a stranger about heaven knew what. Severus wasn’t social, and he didn’t make small talk. To be honest, he had no idea what to do on a “date”, and he should have his head examined for agreeing to go.

Yet here he was, and he fell in behind the maitre d’ without saying a word. He’d spoken very little since Lupin had joined him in the lobby, and the short walk to the restaurant along the city streets hadn’t afforded much of an opportunity for conversation. But soon they would be at a table, just the two of them, and he’d have to figure out something to say.

The table they were led to was against a wall, at the end of a row and partially screened by a potted palm. The seclusion suited Severus’ need to not feel as though he were being watched, although it did pose other possible problems. There was no help for it, however, and he just had to get through it as best as he could. He’d had time while showering and changing clothes to have a stern talk with himself, and he now had his bizarre attraction to Lupin in check. No matter what, he mustn’t allow Lupin to get under his skin again.

“Your waiter will be with you in just a moment,” the maitre d’ said, and then he left them to themselves.

Lupin murmured thanks and turned his attention to Severus, leaning his chin on one hand as he regarded Severus with a pleasant smile. “I guess we can bypass the ‘what do you do’ sort of questions,” he said conversationally. “So I’ll start by asking what you do when you aren’t up to your knees in the sand, excavating a site.”

Lifting a brow, Severus regarded Lupin in return, completely ignoring the fact that Lupin’s blue sweater complimented his eyes, the same way he’d ignored the way that Lupin’s khaki trousers had clung to his hips. He wasn’t used to having ‘getting to know you’ chats with anyone, but the alternative was to simply ignore Lupin for the rest of the night. Severus knew he could be a harsh, arrogant bastard when the situation warranted, but Lupin hadn’t earned that level of treatment from. Or at least, not yet.

“I read,” he replied, giving a slight shrug. “Usually journals or new texts on Egyptology, although I sometimes branch out into fiction.” 

“What kind of fiction?” Lupin asked, seeming genuinely interested. “I prefer science fiction, mostly, but I like mysteries too.” 

That surprised Severus, and he tilted his head to one side, finding himself actually curious about what Lupin preferred. “I’m a fan of David Weber,” he admitted, naming his favorite science fiction author. “Works about the future offer a break from being immersed so thoroughly in the past.”

Lupin chuckled and nodded. “I hadn’t thought about it quite that way, but you’re right. It’s like going from one end of the spectrum to the other, and it’s a nice antidote from mummies and dust and long-dead cultures.” 

Their waiter arrived then, greeted them, and handed over menus, and Lupin asked for a wine list as well. 

“I hope my choice of restaurants won’t get me mocked,” he said, his smile turning playful. “You mentioned steak, so I thought a nice steakhouse would do.” 

Despite the stern talking-to, Severus felt a tingle at the way Lupin was smiling at him, and he opened his menu, feigning interest in the contents. “It appears adequate,” he replied dryly. “Usually decent steak is indeed found in a decent steakhouse.”

“This place looks decent enough,” Lupin said amiably. “I was just hoping I’d made a good choice and that you didn’t secretly want sushi.” His expression grew more serious then, and he reached across the table to touch Severus’ hand lightly. “I’d like tonight to go well, so if there’s anything you’d rather do or anywhere you’d rather go, tell me.” 

The brush of Lupin’s fingers, as fleeting as it was, sent a flare of warmth up Severus’ arm. It also startled him; people simply didn’t touch him, at least not other than to shake hands in a perfunctory fashion, and certainly no one’s touch had ever affected him the way Lupin’s did.

“No, this is fine,” he replied sharply, his cheeks flushing even under his tan. Then Lupin’s last words registered fully, and Severus frowned. Lupin’s motives were still not clear to him, and it made his protective instincts flare. “I don’t see why you think it matters how tonight turns out, Lupin. I’m certain you have enough other friends and acquaintances to be social with. You have no need of me.”

Lupin appeared taken aback for a moment, but then he smiled and curled his fingers gently around Severus’ hand. “I do have friends, yes, but I’m not looking for friendship with you, at least not _just_ friendship. I hope tonight goes well so that you’ll agree to go on another date with me and perhaps on more dates after that.” 

“You want to date me,” Severus said, his voice incredulous, and he gaped at Lupin as though he were some strange, unknown and potentially dangerous animal. Lupin’s hand was warm around his, and the tingling became stronger and far more insistent. Part of him wanted to yank his hand away and issue Lupin a scathing set down that would pay him back for this obvious ploy to lure Severus into whatever his trap was, but another part that had been denied for decades and was starved for touch and attention soaked up the casual contact like a thirsty sponge. The resulting conflict played havoc with Severus’ much cherished self-control, leaving him feeling adrift in an unknown sea. It was not a feeling he cared for in the slightest, and that gave him the strength to pull his hand away, although part of him cried out at the loss.

“I don’t have time for a social life, much less games with a much younger man,” Severus replied, frowning sternly at Lupin, letting the man know that he would _not_ be toyed with. 

“Much younger...?” Lupin stared at him, wide-eyed, and burst out laughing. “I’m flattered! But no, I think we’re about the same age. I’ll be forty on my next birthday. I’m not a boy toy, and I’m definitely not playing games.”

Severus’ eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion as he looked Lupin over, unable to believe the man was the same age as he was. Lupin looked so _boyish_ , his face carrying nothing of the creases Severus had noticed beginning to mark his own. Or perhaps it was that Lupin’s expression was simply too open and trusting, making him seem far younger than Severus felt. But then Lupin hadn’t been nearly cast out of his career by his peers, either, and seemed to be one of those fortunate people who was liked and trusted no matter what he did. 

“Whatever your age, my first remark still stands,” he replied, and then he shook his head, his voice taking on a edge of bitterness. “Why me? No doubt you have grad students and coeds flinging themselves at your feet! I have no illusions about my looks or my personality, and frankly I prefer it that way. There must be something you want from me, and for some reason, you’re trying to... to... _seduce_ it out of me! Well, I won’t stand for it! Either tell me what you want, or I will consider this evening finished right now.”

Lupin’s voice was as gentle as his touch, and there was nothing but warmth and sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. “I’ve read your work for years and followed your career, and I’ve always found you fascinating. You’re intelligent, and maybe you don’t look like Brad Pitt, but I care more about brains than looks. Besides...” He grinned impishly. “I’ve always had a weakness for tall, thin, dark haired men. You’re exactly my type in many ways, and I think we could be compatible. At least, I’d like to find out if we are or not, if you’ll let me.” 

Severus resisted the urge to look about to see if somehow he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and into a life that wasn’t his own. People simply did _not_ think such things about him, much less say them. He wouldn’t have expected that he was anyone’s type, much less that of someone as attractive as Remus Lupin. The whole thing left him feeling as though he were adrift at sea.

He wanted to call Lupin a liar, to stand up, denounce Lupin, and make his escape, but he didn’t. Perhaps he would end up regretting it later, but Severus was no more immune to having someone attracted to him than anyone else. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he replied, falling back on the comfort of a snarky response. “Let’s see if you can manage not to annoy me during the course of a meal first.”

“That’s my primary goal,” Lupin replied with a solemnity that was belied by the teasing glint in his eyes. “If I can manage to catch your interest on top of not annoying you, I’ll consider the evening a rousing success.” 

“You must be constantly satisfied in your life, to have such a low threshold of fulfillment,” Severus replied tartly, picking up his menu and pretending to study it. “I, however, am decidedly hard to please. Let’s see if there is anything worth having on the menu, shall we? Otherwise things might be over very quickly.”

“I think I’ll keep it simple and go for the ribeye,” Lupin said, glancing at the menu briefly and then putting it aside. “But do order whatever you like. I’d hate to eat dinner alone because you felt too constrained in your choices.” 

“I’ll have the filet,” Severus said, then closed the menu and glanced at Lupin. “I’m not good at small talk or social niceties. But I am curious about one thing. With all of your linguistic ability, why turn your attention to Egypt? Surely you could work on digs anywhere else in the world.” _And not undermine my work_ , he thought morosely.

“Two reasons, really.” Lupin paused before continuing when the waiter approached to bring their wine and take their order; once the waiter was gone, he resumed speaking. “First, I’ve always been fascinated by Egypt. The history, the culture. We’ve learned so much, but we still have so much to learn and so many mysteries to solve. I feel as if I could spent my life there and still only scratch the surface, archaeologically speaking.” 

The sentiment was so close to Severus’ own feelings that he blinked in surprise. “Very true,” he acknowledged somewhat grudgingly. But Egyptology was his whole life, and he couldn’t help responding. “Even through I have concentrated on the Saqqara complex, there are dozens of tombs left to excavate. The pharaohs were easy to identify, of course, but the tombs of the queens, and the functionaries and priests are still very much a mystery. We find bits and pieces of the puzzle, and then I spend hours cross-referencing and running down the names, trying to find out if there is any other documentation for the person and where they fit in the court.”

Lupin’s face lit up, and he nodded vehemently. “Exactly!” he exclaimed, leaning forward. “There’s such a richness and depth to every new find, some new bit of information or some new historical figure. Personally, I find the everyday life of the common people just as fascinating as the kings, queens, and priests, along with their mythology and death rituals.” 

“Unfortunately, most of the mummies and mustaba of the common people were ransacked in the nineteenth century,” Severus said, frowning darkly. “The Victorians probably destroyed more burials over the course of fifty years than tomb robbers did in five thousand. Idiots! So few of them had any respect for history, and it is fortunate for us that as much was preserved as there was.” He shook his head. “Typical British ethnocentrism.”

“It’s a loss, I agree, but there’s much more out there to be unearthed and studied, and much more care is taken nowadays,” Lupin pointed out. “We may have lost much, but we haven’t lost everything - or you and I would be out of a job!” he added, flashing a playful grin at Severus. 

Severus acknowledged the point with an inclination of his head as he tried to ignore how Lupin’s smile was beginning to affect him. “So, what is your second reason?” he asked reaching for his wine glass and taking a sip to cover his wayward libido.

Lupin leaned back in his chair and picked up his own glass, his smile turning more intimate. “You,” he said simply. “You fascinate me almost as much as Egypt does, and I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time.”

“WHAT?” Severus nearly dropped his glass. He gaped at Lupin for a moment, then forcibly collected his wits and shook his head. “You are either insane or having me on,” he said sharply. “Perhaps even both. I warned you I don’t care to be toyed with, Lupin, and I refuse to believe you.”

Still smiling, Lupin shrugged. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s the truth. I was first intrigued when I began reading your work, and when I saw a photo of you... Well, I guess you could say I developed a little crush. I thought we’d mesh well professionally, and I hoped we’d mesh well personally too, so I began focusing on Egypt, which wasn’t a hardship because I wanted to go there anyway for all the reasons I already mentioned.” 

It was finally more than Severus could take. There was simply no way that Remus Lupin was going to make him believe that Lupin had seen a picture and developed a crush on him like some star-struck adolescent making calf-eyes at some actor’s picture. No, Lupin was making sport of him for some bizarre reason, and Severus wasn’t going to stand for it any longer.

“This evening is over,” he snapped, slamming his glass down on the table and rising to his feet, glaring at Lupin angrily. “You’ve had your laugh at my expense, Lupin, and I was a fool to have gone along with this. Do not ever speak to me again, do you understand? I won’t hesitate to use whatever means necessary to make certain you leave me alone!”

With that, he turned on his heel and started toward the entrance, intent on getting the hell away before he punched Lupin in the face. But before he could even take more than a couple of steps, Lupin grabbed his arm and hauled him back behind the potted palm, shielding them from the rest of the restaurant. Lupin herded him until his back hit the wall, and he found himself pinned by Lupin’s hands on his shoulders. 

“This isn’t a joke, and I’m not laughing,” Lupin said, a thrumming undercurrent almost like a growl in his voice - and then he swooped in and captured Severus’ mouth in a demanding kiss. 

Nothing like this had ever happened to Severus before, and for a moment, he was too shocked to do anything more than stand rigid, his brain refusing to believe that Lupin was kissing him, claiming his mouth as though he had every right to do so. His traitorous body recovered first, heat surging through him, urging him to give in, to part his lips and invite Lupin to deepen the kiss. Lupin gentled the kiss as he deepened it, cupping Severus’ cheek in his palm as he explored slowly and thoroughly, a soft hum escaping him as if the taste and feel of Severus’ mouth pleased him. 

It had been nearly twenty years since Severus had been kissed, and never with such expertise. His touch-starved skin cried out for more, urging him to give in and let Lupin do whatever he wanted, no matter what the cost. It was a reckless and terrifying thought, and Severus’ protective instincts reasserted themselves abruptly, allowing him to find the strength to pull back from the kiss so that he could stare at Lupin, at a loss for words for the first time in living memory.

Lupin’s lips were rosy, and his cheeks were flushed as he gazed back at Severus; if Severus didn’t know better, he might have called Lupin’s expression ‘besotted’. “You see?” Lupin asked softly, caressing Severus’ cheek gently with his thumb. “I’m not toying with you.” 

Summoning the strength from somewhere, Severus put his hands on Lupin’s shoulders and pushed him back, although the gesture was less defiant than he might have liked. He was completely out of his depth and his body was betraying him, but somehow he managed to draw himself up and give Lupin a quelling frown. “I don’t trust you yet,” he replied haughtily. “A kiss proves nothing.”

“After all you’ve been through, I’m not surprised,” Lupin replied, stepping back and giving Severus some much-needed space, and he offered a reassuring smile. “All I want is a chance to prove myself - to prove that you _can_ trust me.” 

For a moment, Severus considered refusing. It would be so easy to walk away, to tell Lupin that he would never be trusted and therefore it was a waste of time. But his lips were still tingling from the kiss, and his skin could still feel the imprint of Lupin’s hands. It was dangerous not to push Lupin away completely, but Severus refused to be frightened of danger.

“One chance,” Severus replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “And that only because I have no doubt you will hound me mercilessly if I don’t give it to you. But one chance is all you get, Lupin.”

“That’s all I want,” Lupin replied quickly, his expression earnest, and then he chuckled. “You’re right: I’d keep pestering you, but only because I think we could be brilliant together in so many ways.” 

“But I require convincing,” Severus shot back, starting to regain his sense of balance now that Lupin wasn’t pressed against him. “And I won’t be convinced if I’m starved to death.”

Smiling widely, Lupin turned sideways and gestured to their table with a flourish. “Our food should be here soon, and I’d hate for a good ribeye to go to waste myself.” His smile turned wicked, and he winked at Severus. “Although I admit, my appetite isn’t entirely for steak right now.” 

“Hmph.” Severus didn’t deign to reply to that, although he wasn’t displeased at the thought that maybe - just maybe - Lupin might not be having him on after all. But it was going to take more than a toe-curling kiss and pretty words to convince him.

He made his way back to the table, taking his seat with regal hauteur. He waited for Lupin to sit down, then gave him a stern look. “And I still think you’re wrong about Imhotep’s tomb.”

Lupin picked up his wine glass and took a sip, regarding Severus with curiosity rather than defensiveness or antagonism. “All right. Why do you think that?” 

“Because I’ve been over that area many times,” Severus replied. “I’ve used a variety of equipment looking for empty areas under the sand, and there aren’t any. It would be a waste of time and resources to mount an excavation on the basis of a single tablet!”

“More has been done for less,” Lupin replied amiably. “Would you be willing to go there with me? I mean, this is Imhotep we’re talking about. He could have done any number of imaginative things that make his tomb difficult to detect even with modern technology. I think it’s worth a look, and I’m willing to put my money where my mouth is. If you’re right, I’ll publish a retraction and publicly admit my translation was wrong. If I’m right, though, then you’ll get to be on-hand for one of the biggest archaeological finds of the century, and I’ll share equal credit with you.” 

From Severus’ point of view, there didn’t seem to be a downside, other than, of course, giving any acknowledgement whatsoever that Lupin might be right in the first place. “And what do you expect out of me in this wild-goose chase?” he asked. “Use of my equipment? My laborers? And how long are you planning to devout to it? It will take years to excavate that much area, even if you can get permission.”

The waiter arrived with their food, and Lupin breathed in the aroma of his steak and tucked in with a little appreciative noise, taking a few bites before glancing at Severus again.

“I’d like to approach this venture as a partnership, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you, so I’ll provide half of the equipment and labor. We can negotiate what specific equipment we’ll each provide later. I’m planning for six months. If we don’t find anything by then, I’ll concede defeat, and we can get started right away. I’ve already secured permission to work there, and I’ve already done the necessary paperwork. I was simply waiting until after the conference to get started.” 

“You already have permission?” Severus fixed Lupin with a gimlet eye, wondering how the man had managed that without _him_ hearing about it. Lupin was apparently craftier than Severus had thought, but Severus had planned to keep an eye on him already. In fact, he decided, the best way to make certain Lupin wasn’t trying to get away with anything was to keep as close to his operation as possible. “Fine. I’ll provide half the equipment and labor. I also have a new graduate assistant who will be able to assist. Draco can handle most of the logistics to free us up for exploration.”

“Excellent!” Lupin seemed genuinely pleased, and he nodded with apparent satisfaction. “I can bring my assistant, Harry, along as well. I like the idea of us being able to focus on exploration more than paperwork.” He extended his hand across the table, smiling. “I look forward to working with you, partner.” 

Severus looked at Lupin’s hand with a quiver of internal trepidation that he abruptly dismissed as ridiculous. It wasn’t as though Lupin were going to haul him across the table and snog him breathless - _again_ , an annoying mental voice added - so there wasn’t any danger. Reaching out gingerly, as though Lupin’s hand might turn into a cobra and bite him, Severus took Lupin’s hand and shook it briskly before releasing it quickly, the brief contact still enough to leave a distinct impression of Lupin’s warm skin and strong fingers. 

“I won’t lie and say I’m looking forward to it especially,” he said, not about to allow Lupin to think he’d won. “But I suppose that since you will be invading my domain regardless, I am making the best bargain I can to protect my interests.”

“I’d like think of it as a collaboration rather than an invasion,” Lupin replied, his expression turning somber. “I want to work _with_ you, not take anything from you. On the contrary...” He gazed at Severus with a wicked smile curving his lips, and the heated gleam in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t thinking about archaeology any longer. “I want to _give_ , if you’ll let me.”

“So you keep saying,” Severus replied, deliberately not imagining what it was that Lupin was claiming to want to give him. He forced his attention to his steak for a few moments, as much to make Lupin stew as to make certain he had himself in complete control. “But unless and until I have reason to actually believe you, I am not inclined to accept.” The tiny mental voice screamed at him for being a liar, but Severus ignored it.

“That’s fine,” Lupin replied calmly, turning his attention to his own meal. “We have time. Six whole months, in fact. I think that’ll be ample time to prove that you can trust me and to show you how good we can be together, professionally and personally.” 

“We’ll see.” An evil smile curved Severus’ lips as he looked at Lupin. Now that he was recovering from the various shocks that Lupin had put him through, he was beginning to see that having Lupin trying to win his trust might not be such a bad thing. It meant that he was in control, which was a position that he very much liked to be in. And he wasn’t going to be at all reticent about telling Lupin exactly what he thought whenever Lupin began to slip.


	3. Chapter 3

The Egyptian sun was fiercely strong, making shimmering mirages appear in the distant dunes. Severus was long used to it, however, and in many ways, he preferred it to the bland dampness of London. He had been born in this land, and his work was here. The times he spent in England were simply necessary inconveniences.

It was practice to take a break during the hottest part of the day, and so Severus retreated to his tent, changing his sweat-soaked shirt and trousers for a traditional djellaba in cream colored cotton. A pot of tea had been delivered, and he sat sipping a cup as he updated the dig’s morning results on his laptop. He was so engrossed in his report that he paid no attention to the sounds of a car entering the compound; vehicles were always coming and going, making deliveries or taking discoveries back to Cairo, and besides, that was why Draco was there: to handle such mundane details and leave Severus free to attend to the real work.

Thus he was taken by surprise when he heard Lupin call out a cheerful greeting to someone, and he glanced up, briefly wondering if he could pretend he wasn’t here and remain hidden in his tent. Unfortunately, he overheard Lupin asking one of the workers if Dr. Snape was on-site, and naturally, the fool told Lupin exactly where to find him.

Sure enough, he heard Lupin outside his tent a few moments later. “Knock, knock, Dr. Snape! Mind if I come in?”

He considered not answering or even refusing, but it would only postpone the inevitable. He’d not seen Lupin since the night of their “date”, but the man had made his presence known through email as they worked out the details of the excavation. He’d referred Lupin to Draco as much as possible, but some things he’d simply had to handle himself. Fortunately it was impossible for Lupin to discomfit him as much in email as he did in person, and Severus had nearly forgotten how the man affected him. Now, however, he was not going to be able to avoid seeing Lupin, and he sighed and steeled himself for the encounter.

“Enter,” Severus called out imperiously, rising to his feet. It was less a gesture of politeness than a self-defensive one, however. He preferred to meet Lupin with their eyes on the same level rather than giving Lupin the advantage of altitude.

Lupin flung back the tent-flap and strode inside, smiling warmly as soon as he spotted Severus. “Good afternoon,” he said, a husky edge in his voice as he looked Severus up and down leisurely. “I’d no idea how well robes suit you. I’d never bother with Western styled clothes again if I were you.”

The admiration in Lupin’s gaze might have affected Severus more strongly if it weren’t for the fact that he was too busy being overwhelmed with sudden lust. Lupin was dressed in loose khaki pants, dark brown boots, and a loose white shirt that emphasized his tan skin and blue eyes. But the fedora atop his long, silky hair was the final straw, forcefully calling to mind as it did one of Severus’ secret vices - a love for the Indiana Jones films. But no two-dimensional representation of Harrison Ford could possibly compete with the living, breathing, unbelievably sexy man standing in front of him.

It was difficult, but Severus kept his tongue from lolling out, and he even managed to use it. “I’m a quarter Egyptian. I grew up wearing robes,” he explained, just to have something to say. “I doubt they would go over very well back at the Museum, however.”

“Too bad,” Lupin replied, still letting his gaze roam over Severus until Severus could practically feel the heat and the weight of it like a touch. “Maybe you should stop worrying about what people at the Museum would think. I imagine they’re more comfortable than a suit, and they’re a damned sight more sexy on you.”

Severus could feel his cheeks heating, and he was reminded of just how off-kilter Lupin tended to make him feel. Maybe he’d had time to mentally adjust, however, during the last few weeks, because he was able to bring himself back under control more quickly. “They are more comfortable, yes,” he agreed. “For this climate.” He gestured to Lupin’s outfit. “Are you consciously emulating Indiana Jones, and if so, where is your whip?”

Lupin looked a bit abashed at that, the first sign that Severus had said anything to throw _him_ off, and he chuckled softly. “It’s in my luggage,” he said, keeping straight-faced. “And yes, there’s a bit of an homage going on here. I love those films, and I’ll even admit that Indiana Jones helped to spark my interest in archaeology.”

As much as he didn’t want to do it, Severus had to award Lupin a few mental points for liking the same films he did. And it didn’t hurt that he’d managed to finally disconcert Lupin at least a bit. Snapping and snarking hadn’t done it, but it would be worth exploring other ways to get under Lupin’s skin; Lupin certainly didn’t hesitate to do it to Severus at every available opportunity.

“Are you afraid of snakes, too, or is that carrying the comparison too far?” Severus asked, raising a brow.

“No, I’m not afraid of snakes,” Lupin replied, moving closer. “Nor of rats or bugs.”

Severus held his ground. “What are you afraid of, then?” he asked, wondering if Lupin would actually answer. He knew that _he_ wouldn’t willingly divulge a weakness to anyone.

“Not much, really,” Lupin replied, reaching out to capture Severus’ hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Spending most of my childhood battling illness gave me a different perspective on fear, I think.”

Tingles travelled upward from Severus’ hand, seeming to spread all through his body. It wasn’t fair that Lupin could do such things to him with just a touch. Perhaps it wasn’t just Lupin; maybe any attractive man paying attention to him would cause the same feelings. Severus tried to tell himself that must be the case, even though deep down, he had to admit he really didn’t believe it was true. There was something about Lupin; he’d felt it from the first moment he’d laid eyes on the man, and he wondered if he’d be fighting so hard if Lupin had been anyone but the man who had challenged Severus on his own turf.

“Albus mentioned that,” he said, determined to keep the conversation as normal as possible. “And that you could read Ancient Greek before you were ten.”

“I could, yes.” Lupin tightened his fingers around Severus’ hand, seeming in no hurry to let go. “My parents realized I had an affinity for languages early on, and being sick so much, I had little else to do other than read and study.”

“You seem healthy enough now,” Severus observed. He wondered if he should pull his hand out of Lupin’s grasp, but he wasn’t sure how to do so without Lupin noticing. “I take it you got better?”

“Mostly, yes.” Lupin smiled and caressed the back of Severus’ hand with his thumb. “I developed pneumonia when I was about five, and I was in the hospital for weeks. It was touch and go for a while there, and the doctors worried I’d have a relapse for several years after. Even now, I’ve got to be careful because a simple cold can escalate into bronchitis or even pneumonia at the drop of a hat. The climate here is good for me, actually, which was just one more draw among many.”

“I see.” The caress of Lupin’s fingers was doing funny things to Severus’ heart rate, and he finally had to pull his hand away before he did something foolish. He stepped back and pointed to a neat pile of photos on his desk, each with a label. “Well, since your health won’t be in question, perhaps you’ll want to get to work as quickly as possible. Those are photos of the area where your translation indicates is the alleged location of the tomb, along with depth indications for rock beneath the sand. You’ll find that there isn’t any indication of excavation echoes.”

“Which doesn’t necessarily mean nothing is there,” Lupin pointed out, looking slightly disappointed at the loss of Severus’ hand. “We may need to use different, perhaps even unconventional means of searching for the tomb in that location.”

“Unconventional?” Severus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up haughtily. “I assure you I’ve gone about this in a very thorough, logical, scientific way, and correlated all the data. But I assume you won’t be satisfied until you’ve shifted a few tons of sand, so knock yourself out.”

“I intend to,” Lupin replied calmly. “I have six months, and I intend to use every single day to exhaust all the possibilities.”

“Of course,” Severus acknowledged. “Draco has drawn up the schedules for the workers we’re assigning to you. I still have an ongoing excavation on the other side of the pyramid, but I agreed to assist you, and I will. How did you wish to begin?”

“My translation points the way to a specific location,” Lupin replied. “I’ve got some annotated maps that I’ll email you later so you and your workers will know where I plan to start. I’ve brought workers and equipment too, and I’ll gladly share if I’ve got anything you need.” His smile turned into a smirk. “Or anything you want.”

Severus lifted a brow, some mad impulse possessing him. “I’ll take that whip,” he drawled. “I suspect it would enhance my image as a slave driver, don’t you?”

Lupin laughed, a sound of delighted amusement rather than mockery. “It might work with your employees, but I think the sight of you with a whip might only make it that much harder for me to keep my hands off you.” His pale eyes darkened, and his smile turned wicked. “I can just imagine how sexy you would be, standing there in those robes, all snark and snap as you crack the whip...”

Whatever reply he’d expected from Lupin, _that_ certainly hadn’t been it, and Severus boggled for a moment before regaining his composure. “You should be so lucky,” he managed to get out, adding a sniff for good measure. “You’d definitely have to earn that privilege.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Lupin said, still smiling wolfishly. “I thought I’d made that abundantly clear.”

Somehow the predatory smile was all the stronger with Lupin wearing those particular clothes, and Severus felt like a rabbit being stalked by a tiger. How would it feel if Lupin really did pounce on him, pushing him down to the rugs that covered the desert sand beneath their feet and do everything that smile promised?

It was becoming too much of a temptation, and Severus was annoyed with himself for allowing Lupin to get to him. “So you claim,” he said, his tone somewhat caustic, not because of anger with Lupin, but with himself. “So perhaps it’s time you got started. Let’s see how good of an archaeologist you are, Dr. Lupin. Shall we go have a look at where you want to dig?”

“By all means, Dr. Snape,” Lupin replied, stepping back and moving to hold the tent flap open for Severus. “We’ll have a look at the site, and I can tell you about the theory behind my translation along the way.”

With all the self-possession of a pharaoh, Severus lifted his chin and moved past Lupin. The entrance to the tent was narrow, however, and it necessitated brushing against Lupin as he left. He could feel the heat of their bodies overlap, and he wondered how on earth he was going to be able to tolerate the close proximity of an excavation with Lupin if merely passing by the man made his body thrum with awareness.

“This way,” he said, and moved with long-legged grace away from the cluster of tents nestled in what shade the large step pyramid provided. There hadn’t been any sand storms for a few days, and so the ground beneath their feet was packed relatively well, allowing Severus to navigate easily in his sandals. Normally he preferred boots when outside, but he wasn’t going to give Lupin any more ammunition to use by hiking up his robes to put on socks and heavy footwear.

Several men in robes not unlike his own were leaning in patches of shade wherever they happened to occur, drinking from water flasks or smoking as they waited for the day to lose just a little of its heat. Severus could feel himself beginning to sweat already, but that was simply the price one paid for working in the desert. He did, however, reach back to pull up the hood of his robe, covering the top of his head from the direct sunlight. There was no sense in risking sunstroke, after all.

Lupin kept up easily, adjusting his fedora to better stave off the sun, and he looked around at the site with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation.

“I think the main point of difference between our respective translations is that you’re using a more literal translation than I am,” he said, his tone conversational rather than condescending. “The beauty of every language is in its nuances. There are shades of meaning that are lost with a literal translation of each word compared to the subtleties of how the words work together as a whole.”

Severus looked sidelong at Lupin, frowning skeptically. “You’re saying that whoever scrawled those hieroglyphs was talking in riddles or making a joke?” he asked. “To what end?”

“It could be any number of reasons,” Lupin replied with a shrug. “Anything from the ancient world’s version of tagging to a sticky note reminder. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my study of various languages, it’s that connotation, dual meanings, and nuances affect what we say and how we say it, and they’re often the most difficult things for an outsider to fully grasp.”

Unfortunately it was hard to refute that argument, and Severus gave a grunt that might have indicated at least vague agreement. Then he regarded Lupin with a raised brow, deciding to get back a little of his own. “Are you calling me an outsider?” he asked, giving Lupin a mock glare. “I’ll have you know I speak both Arabic and Coptic in addition to Old Egyptian.”

Lupin had the grace to look abashed at that, and he smiled wryly. “Sorry about that. No, I didn’t mean to imply you’re an outsider. I was thinking about linguists in general, including myself.”

“Ah... so you admit you don’t know everything,” Severus replied, smirking slightly. “But you’re sure enough about these particular scrawls to dedicate six months of your life and an incredible amount of resources on it?”

Lupin raised one eyebrow at him, appearing somewhat surprised. “I don’t remember ever claiming to know everything,” he said. “I’m aware that I have a good reputation in the field, but I’ve never tried to aggrandize myself, only to be the best scholar and historian I can be - and because of that, yes, I’m willing to devote six months of my life and resources to it. If I’m wrong, I’ll admit it and let it go, but I want to take the chance in case I’m right.”

To his own surprise, Severus let out a short bark of laughter. “Well, you’ve just amply proven your point to me,” he drawled, shaking his head slightly. “I was joking, Lupin. No, you haven’t aggrandized yourself, although Albus did a pretty damned good job of doing it for you. I was twitting you in payback for your damnable way of leaving me at a loss for words half the time.”

Lupin glanced at him, obviously surprised, and then he chuckled. “Well, I can’t control what other people say about me any more than you can,” he pointed out. “As for leaving you at a loss for words, I won’t apologize, because it’s rather endearing.”

Severus glared, then gave a snort. “Endearing? There is nothing endearing about _me_ , I assure you. And any misguided belief you have that there is will doubtless be put to rest when you see me really angry.”

“I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive,” Lupin said, slanting a playful smile at him. “I think you have endearing qualities, even if you don’t believe it of yourself.” He peered at Severus searchingly for a moment before adding, “I think you’ve got a skewed perspective of yourself in some ways, but maybe seeing yourself through different eyes will help, although I admit I’m not entirely objective myself.”

“And why is that?” Severus asked, as they began to draw near the location where Lupin’s translation had indicated Imhotep’s tomb should be. “You hadn’t met me until a few weeks ago, and I know my reputation precedes me at all times. I would have thought you would be quite objective.”

“Well, it’s like I said: I looked at your work and your career and formed my own opinion regardless of rumor and gossip,” Lupin replied. “If things had stopped there, I might have been objective, but I couldn’t help being attracted to you and developing a crush. Schoolboyish as it sounds, that’s the only word I can think of to describe what happened. So I can’t be objective at all.”

Severus frowned again, not certain if he should believe Lupin, but this was the second time Lupin had claimed to have been attracted to him before they’d even met. He’d dismissed the first time as Lupin trying to rattle him, but the man was persistently sticking to the same story. Severus wasn’t certain whether to be flattered in some bizarre way or disturbed. Not to mention the subtle pressure it put him under.

“I am not the type of person anyone develops a crush upon,” he said. “Nor do I like feeling as though I have to live up to some expectation of yours, Lupin. If you expect me not to yell at you when you deserve it out of some thought of sparing your feelings and preserving your good opinion of me, I am warning you now you are no doubt going to end up bitterly disappointed.”

Lupin burst out laughing at that, and he stopped in his tracks, reaching out to catch Severus’ arm to stop him as well. “You’ve already yelled at me and come close to walking out on me. You’ve also given me the cold shoulder, questioned both my intelligence and motives, and contradicted just about everything I’ve said as if it would cause you physical pain to agree with me. Believe me, I have no illusions about you sparing my feelings, and I’m fine with that.” He smiled, giving Severus a look of fond amusement. “I could tell from your writing and the videos of your presentations that you’re opinionated and out-spoken. I could also tell that you’re stubborn and strong, and you don’t suffer fools gladly. I know what I’m getting into, and I have only the expectation that you’ll continue being yourself.”

Severus snorted. “So long as we’re clear on that,” he replied, offering no apology for Lupin’s assessment of the situation. He thought Lupin probably was a bit insane for his insistence that he wanted a chance to prove himself so that Severus would deign to consider a relationship with him when Lupin could probably have his pick of gay men on several continents, but if the man wanted to spend his time pursuing him, who was he to say no? He rather doubted Lupin was keeping at it merely for sport anymore, because anyone rational would have abandoned the pursuit long ago. He wasn’t going to allow himself to believe fully, not yet, but maybe, just maybe, Lupin might be serious. 

“If you’ve recovered from your fit of mirth, we’re almost to the spot you indicated,” he continued, pointing to the crest of a sand dune a few meters distant. “Shall we go?”

“By all means,” Lupin replied, offering his arm with a smile. “I’m ready to see whatever you want to show me.”

Severus considered Lupin’s arm as though it might be a dangerous weapon for a long moment, and then he shrugged and laid a hand gingerly upon it. He was in sandals, after all, and climbing a dune, even a small one, wasn’t something he normally did in robes. Better to accept a bit of help than end up tumbling arse over elbows and looking like a complete fool.

He ignored the warmth of Lupin’s arm beneath his fingers, concentrating to reaching the top of the dune. Once there, he let go, not wanting to appear weak or as though he were deliberately currying Lupin’s favor after all the pretty sentiments the man had expressed. Squinting, he pointed out over the low mounds of sand that stretched away from them toward distant hills in the east. The only thing between where they stood and those hills was a vast empty nothingness.

“This is it,” he said, glancing over to see how Lupin was dealing with such an anticlimactic moment. “If you look carefully, there are some low stakes still visible from where we did the gridding for the depth readings. But other that that... if Imhotep’s tomb is here, it’s one tiny needle in an enormous haystack.”

Lupin’s demeanor turned focused and business-like as he surveyed the area, every inch the professional archaeologist as he strode around the staked off grids. “I’ll want some surveying equipment up here to start with so I can determine where we should begin the search.” He glanced at Severus, excitement making his blue eyes sparkle and dance. “I can scarcely believe we’re here at last!”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very exciting,” Severus replied, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Lupin, one would think you’ve never been to an excavation before!”

“Not one of such potential magnitude,” Lupin replied, seeming oblivious to Severus’ quelling tone. “Nor have I been able to share an experience like this with someone special before. That makes this dig doubly exciting.”

“It also sets you up for twice the disappointment,” Severus warned, although he couldn’t help but feel _something_ at being part of Lupin’s excitement. Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t the optimistic type at the best of times. “Well, if you’ve seen what you need to see, we can get back, and I’ll have Draco haul out the aerial maps. They aren’t ideal for topological detail, of course, because the sands shift too often, but they’ll work for references for your survey. When will your own assistant arrive? You’d better warn him that Draco has a system worked out and will not be best pleased by having someone else come in wanting to rearrange things.”

“Harry will be along tomorrow,” Lupin said, returning to Severus’ side. “He’s picking up a few last minute things for me. He’s a nice young man. I’m sure he and Draco will get on just fine.”

“Perhaps,” Severus replied. “Draco is intelligent, disciplined, self-possessed, and richer than anyone his age has a right to be, but I wouldn’t say he’s nice. Charming, yes, when it suits him, but your assistant had best try to stay on his good side. Even I wouldn’t care to have that young man as an enemy.”

Rather than seeming worried, however, Lupin chuckled. “I think I understand why you hired him. Anyway, I’ll make sure Harry is suitably forewarned.” He took off his fedora and fanned himself with it briefly before donning it again. “Let’s have a look at those maps. I don’t fancy staying out here much longer until the sun gets lower.”

“So you do have some instinct for self-preservation,” Severus observed, an amused gleam in his eye. “I half expected you to demand a shovel at once so you could set forth on the desert equivalent of attempting to draw water with a sieve. But yes, let’s get back. I never finished my tea. There aren’t many luxuries out here, of course, but I insist that we have decent tea.”

“And there we have one more reason why I’m enamored of you,” Lupin replied, giving him a teasing smile. “Dare I hope you have a little to spare for me, or should I unpack my own damned tea?”

Severus gave a haughty sniff. “I might could be prevailed upon to share,” he said, waving a hand airily as he started back down the dune; going down was much easier than climbing up. “But you’ll have to be nice to me. I hired the camp cook. He’s been with me for years, and if I am annoyed with you, you might find your dinner not to your liking. Not that _I_ would tell him to do anything, of course,” he added with an air of virtuousness. “But Rahmad has a sixth sense about such things. If he doesn’t like you or approve of you, you’ll be eating out of tins for the next six months.”

Lupin caught up with him and slid his arm around Severus’ waist, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I’d love to be nice to you and do everything I can to keep you _very_ happy, and not just to keep Rahmad’s approval.”

It felt as though every nerve in Severus’ body was suddenly jarred to life as Lupin held him close, his breath tickling Severus’ ear and sending a shiver down his spine. He could feel the warmth and strength of Lupin’s arm through the thin cotton of his robe, and he was seized by the sudden, mad thought of how easy it would be to turn into that loose embrace, to slide his arms around Lupin’s shoulders and capture his mouth in a deep, drugging kiss. It was sheer insanity, of course, but he feared something of his desire must be evident in his eyes as he turned his head to stare at Lupin.

“Then you’d better behave yourself in public,” he warned, pulling back from Lupin’s arm with a frown. “We’re not in England now, and I don’t care to test the tolerance of our workers, do you?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Lupin said regretfully as he lowered his arm and put a safe and respectable distance between them. He was silent for a moment, and then he glanced at Severus, his expression mischievous. “You said I should behave myself in public. Does that mean I can misbehave in private?”

If Lupin was this irrepressible as an adult, Severus could only imagine what he had been like as a boy, and he wondered if Lupin caused his parents as much trouble as he was apparently intent on causing Severus. Assuming, of course, that Lupin wasn’t making up for the extended illness in his childhood by acting like an naughty schoolboy now. That thought, of course, pointed the way to ones far more dangerous, and Severus sternly told himself he did _not_ suddenly fancy seeing Lupin in a prep school uniform. Or envision himself with a paddle.

“I have the distinct impression that my permission doesn’t figure into the matter one way or another,” he said dryly, even though one corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “You seem intent on making suggestive comments at every possible moment anyway.”

“I can’t help it.” Lupin tried and failed to look innocent. “I keep hoping if I convince you that I really am attracted to you and desire you, you’ll let me kiss you again. Besides, it’s fun to play with you. I get the feeling that you haven’t had enough play time in your life.”

“Hmph.” Severus didn’t have to acknowledge Lupin’s point, really, since it was fairly self-evident, he thought. But he was actually starting to believe Lupin, at least to an extent, about the attraction; what he couldn’t admit aloud, at least not yet, was that it was returned. Lupin was full of nonsense and could be annoying and was touchy-feely and nothing like anyone Severus ever would have thought he would be attracted to, but that didn’t change the simple fact that attraction was precisely what he felt. Lupin wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever had even peripherally in his life, and he found that in a bizarre way, Lupin was actually growing on him. Either that, or Severus was losing his edge, and that didn’t bear thinking about.

Not to mention he _did_ want Lupin to kiss him again, which meant that it probably shouldn’t be allowed under any circumstances.

“I’m not a playful person,” he said finally, giving a slight shrug. “My work has been my life for many years, and that’s been sufficient.”

“You know what they say about all work and no play.” Lupin wagged an admonishing finger at him. “Besides, ‘sufficient’ isn’t the same as ‘happy’ or even ‘content’. You never know. You might find you rather enjoy having a playful linguist who can whisper naughty things in half a dozen languages in your ear around.”

Severus raised a brow; he had to admit that the thought of Lupin whispering in his ear held a certain level of interest. Then it struck him that Lupin was talking in terms that seemed to imply he wanted more than a quick fling, and that was enough to make him draw up short, looking at Lupin suspiciously.

“What is it that you want from me, Lupin? I mean really want,” he asked, waving a hand to dismiss any reply Lupin might make that was only a lewd joke. “You wanted a date, and I went with you - against my better judgment, I might add. Then you wanted a working partnership, and for some insane reason, I let you have your way. As flirtatious and outrageous as you’ve been, I finally think I get it that you want to have sex with me and that you claim you’ve had some odd infatuation with me for some time. What exactly are you planning? I have no intention of suddenly finding you underfoot in my house, with your things cluttering up the place without being warned in advance if that’s what you intend!”

Lupin blinked, appearing taken aback, but then he grinned. “Well, if that’s an invitation, I accept.” His expression grew a little more serious, then, and he continued. “I thought I was pretty clear about my intentions when I said I think we would do well together both professionally and personally. Yes, I want a working partnership because I think we could do amazing things if we combined our respective talents and expertise. Yes, I want to have sex with you, but I’m not some twenty-something looking to sow a few wild oats. I’m looking for something with the potential to be lasting.”

“But...” Severus knew he was gaping like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. It was difficult enough to accept that after twenty years, someone seemed intent on getting him into bed, but someone wanting to make him a permanent part of their life was just beyond his ability to grasp.

“I do not see how you can be so certain!” he protested. “Reading my work and interviews and going out on a single date and... it’s _crazy_!” He shook his head. “What if I have habits that drive you nuts? Of course, it’s much more likely that _you_ will drive _me_ insane, but... this simply doesn’t happen outside of fairy stories and ridiculous romance novels! Certainly not to forty year old scientists! And especially not to me!”

“Why not?” Lupin asked, seeming genuinely curious. “I’m old enough to know what - and who - I like, and I don’t want some boring, stuffy academic whose idea of adventure is trying to reach the books on the top shelf at the library. I’m physically and intellectually attracted to you, which I think is an excellent foundation to build on. Of course we’ll have rough edges to smooth out. What couple doesn’t? But I’m willing to take a chance and find out if we’re as good together as I think we could be.”

Severus stared at Lupin somberly, having a very hard time accepting Lupin’s words, despite the fact that they sounded almost reasonable on the surface. But not only had he reached the limits of his incredulity for one day, they had also arrived back in camp.

“I will go find Draco and get the maps,” he told Lupin, then pointed at a tent near his own. “That is where you’ll be staying; it has the basics, although I’m certain you brought supplies of your own. We also send someone back to civilization every few days for necessities, and you can make a list if there is anything you need and give it to Draco.” As much as he wanted to do so in some ways, he couldn’t leave Lupin’s previous comments completely unanswered, and he sighed. “As for the rest... I simply do not know. I hadn’t heard of you before a few weeks ago, and I am not the sort of person who is inclined to rash action.” He lifted his chin. “Although I warn you that if I feel you make a nuisance of yourself, it won’t help any thoughts you have for togetherness.”

“I’ll do my best,” Lupin replied, drawing an X on his chest as he regarded Severus with unusual solemnity. “I want to convince you that my interest is sincere, but I don’t want to undermine my own chances in the process.” 

“That is possibly the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say today,” Severus said with a snort. “As it is, I won’t be easy to convince. So why don’t you go take a look at your tent, then meet me back at mine in about fifteen minutes? You’re going to need all six of those months, so we might as well get started.”

“By all means, let’s get started,” Lupin said as he veered off toward his tent, but there was something in his voice that made Severus wonder if he was referring to the excavation alone.


	4. Chapter 4

“We’ve finished grid A19, and I’ve got the photographs all annotated and filed,” Draco said as he handed Severus a folder. “Are you going to start on A20 in the morning or wait until the afternoon?”

Severus opened the folder, looking at the report Draco had printed on their progress on the Queen’s pyramid, then picked up a pen and signed his name with his typical finicky precision at the bottom. “In the morning,” he said, closing the folder and passing it back to Draco. “I don’t want to fall too far behind.”

“Right.” Draco nodded, then hesitated with uncharacteristic diffidence. “Dr. Snape, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to go into town this evening with Har... Potter. There are some supplies we need, and I’d rather not trust them to anyone else, and Potter needs to make a call home.”

Severus raised a brow, but he couldn’t see a reason to deny the request. Draco worked harder than any assistant he’d ever had, which was saying quite a bit, especially considering that Draco was wealthy enough not to have to work at all. 

“Fine,” he replied, waving a hand in dismissal. 

Draco wasted no time in nodding his thanks and leaving, probably to finish up the last of the filing before going into town.

Severus stared after him for a moment, thinking that there was something he was missing, but then he shrugged and stood, stretching to work the kinks out of his back. He’d taken a break from both of the excavations that afternoon in order to catch up on paperwork, but he was looking forward to getting back to his dig. They’d found a few more canopic jars and some beads in the grid they’d just finished, and Severus had the odd feeling he was close to uncovering something even more important in the next.

Moving from behind his desk, robes swishing about his ankles, Severus filled his electric kettle with water and plugged it in to head. He and Lupin had gotten into the habit of taking tea together when work ended just before dusk, catching up on the day’s activities and winding down. It was a time that Severus had come to look forward to despite his initial reservations.

In the six weeks since Lupin at arrived at Saqqara, he’d managed to worm his way deeper into Severus’ life than Severus would have thought possible. He’d tried to keep Lupin at arm’s length, but Lupin simply refused to be put off. He continued to flirt and tease, of course, but he’d also managed to impress Severus with his ability and dedication to his work, and that had earned Severus’ respect. If Lupin had been an idiot, it would have been easy for Severus to discount him completely and shut him out, but they meshed well on an intellectual level, and Severus found having a peer to discuss his work with on a daily basis could be stimulating. Any other stimulation he felt from Lupin’s company, he tried to ignore as much as possible, but if the dreams he’d been having recently - featuring Lupin, of course - were any indication, he was doing a damned poor job of it.

He opened a tin of biscuits, selecting the kinds that he knew Lupin liked, and placed them on a plate. When Lupin arrived, he would assemble the tea, and they could take up their customary seats outside, facing west to watch the sun set over Djoser’s magnificent tomb.

Lupin arrived right on time, and he called out to Severus cheerfully from outside the tent; for all his flirting, he had never taken the liberty of entering Severus’ tent uninvited or of calling Severus by first name, as if _that_ was the line of propriety he wouldn’t cross even as he teased Severus about sunburn and sand-chafing on intimate places. 

Ignoring the fact that his pulse sped up at the sound of Lupin’s voice, Severus answered. “Yes, yes, come in,” he said, placing the plate on a tray that already held two mugs as well as sugar and spoons, the turned to look at Lupin as he entered the tent.

Lupin ducked through the tent flap and greeted Severus with a warm smile. “Hi, honey, I’m home!” he teased.

Severus rolled his eyes, then pointed to the electric kettle. “Then make yourself useful. Pour the water into the pot and bring it over here.” With that, he bent down to the tiny refrigerator he had - rank, after all, had its privileges - and retrieved a small container of cream. 

Lupin followed instructions, although Severus caught him ogling - and he didn’t appear at all abashed at having been caught, either. 

“I see Harry and Draco have gone off on their date,” Lupin remarked casually. “You could learn something from those two.”

“ _What_?” Severus straightened abruptly, turning to look at Lupin as though he’d grown another head. “Are you suggesting that my assistant and yours are actually...” He waved a hand, and the cream sloshed in its container, forcing him to put it down on the tray before continuing. “Involved?”

Lupin stared at him, visibly surprised by the question, and then he nodded. “Well, yes,” he said, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “They have been for weeks. You didn’t know?”

Perturbed at Lupin’s surprise, Severus frowned. “No, I asked because Draco shares all his infatuations with me,” he replied sarcastically. “Of course I didn’t know! Draco and I have a professional relationship, nothing more. But let me guess... Potter seems the mushy type, so no doubt he’s waxed eloquent to you about his fondness for blonds.”

“No, not at all.” Lupin shook his head, surprise shifting into amusement. “Harry did tell me, but even if he hadn’t, it would have been pretty obvious, given how they’ve behaved toward each other since they met. I could tell sparks were flying, and it didn’t take much more than a week before Harry told me what was going on and said he hoped it wouldn’t be a problem. I told him that as long as it doesn’t interfere with their work, it shouldn’t be,” Lupin added with a shrug.

Severus glared, annoyed at having been caught off guard and by not having been asked by Draco if _he_ thought it would be a problem. “If they get themselves deported for their behavior, I’m not about to speak up for them,” he replied. “I suppose I’m not around them as much as you are, but I’m not going to risk the excavation if they create a scandal, especially if they couldn’t be bothered to warn me!”

“Don’t worry.” Lupin offered a reassuring smile. “They’ve been as circumspect as two young men who are shagging like minks can be while they’re in public. I just happened to read the small signs, that’s all.” He paused, and then he added, “Perhaps because I’m just as besotted and randy as they are.” 

Giving Lupin a skeptical look, Severus picked up the tray, although his cheeks were warm. “Shall we head out? I find I am desperately in need of my tea.”

“Of course.” Lupin smiled and moved to hold the tent flap open for Severus and followed him out to the chairs and tea tray set up outside. “So what was your big discovery of the day? Other than Harry and Draco’s affair, that is,” he added, deadpan. 

After setting down the tray, Severus lowered himself into his chair, shot Lupin a suspicious look, then proceeded to pick up the pot and pour. “We finished the next-to-last grid on the southern edge,” he replied, passing Lupin his mug before filling his own and adding sugar and cream. “There were some loose beads and two canopic jars in pieces. It doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve got the feeling we’re close to the burial chamber.” He took a sip from his mug, and sighed appreciatively. “No doubt it will be empty, because the scattered items we’ve found indicate it may have been looted, but perhaps we shall luck out and the sarcophagus will still be there.”

“That does sound promising. Good luck!” Lupin lifted his cup in a toast before taking a sip. “It sounds as if you’re having better luck than I am, at any rate. I hit yet another dead end today,” he added with a sigh.

“Oh?” Severus lifted a brow and was surprised at the sympathy he felt for Lupin’s continued lack of success. “Do you plan to alter directions? It might be better to start at another part of the dig zone.”

“I’m going to give it another day in this location, I think, and then I’ll move elsewhere,” Lupin replied. “I want to make certain I’ve exhausted the possibilities before changing my approach.”

“That makes sense,” Severus replied. He took another drink from his tea, contemplating what advice and consolation he could offer. He knew the frustration of digging for weeks or even months in an area he was certain would yield a discovery, only to come up empty handed day after long, hot, frustrating day. Given that this was also the first dig in which Lupin was acting as the lead archaeologist, it must be especially disheartening.

Normally Severus wasn’t one to offer comfort, especially when he _still_ believed Lupin was chasing leprechauns, but he felt compelled to speak up. “Sometimes it seems endless, as though you’ll never turn up a damned thing, but it’s worth it to keep going. I think that sometimes the things that take the most work to find, whether they are large or small, are the most rewarding. You appreciate them more when you’ve sweated over them for months, if you know what I mean.”

The smile Lupin gave him was a knowing one. “I have some idea, yes,” Lupin said dryly. “I’m not ready to give up hope yet or start doubting myself, but it _is_ frustrating. I just keep reminding myself that I have several months left, and tomorrow might be the day when all my luck changes.” 

“True.” Severus put down his empty tea cup, then turned his attention from Lupin to the spectacular colors of the sunset. The pale desert sands looked as though they were on fire as they reflected the brilliant reds and yellows of the sky, and he gave an unconscious little sigh. “I must have watched this thousands of times, but it never gets old. England always feels like a pale, damp place in comparison.”

“I agree,” Lupin said quietly, and a glance showed that his attention was turned toward the horizon as well. “I wasn’t born here, and I’ve no claim to it through my genes as you do, but I felt as if I’d found my soul’s home the first time I came here, and I never like having to leave.”

The admission surprised Severus, and he looked at Lupin somberly. “It seems to happen to many people,” he said, gesturing toward the stepped pyramid, which was now throwing a large, dark shadow across the land. “My grandfather returned to England perhaps three or four times after coming here as a young man, and he married an Egyptian woman. He told me once that the pyramid owned him heart and soul from the moment he first saw it.” Then he frowned, his lips twisting in a bitter expression. “My father’s crimes nearly killed my grandfather. He spent his entire life exploring the pyramid, protecting and preserving it, and for his own son-in-law to have actually stolen from it was a terrible blow. Horace had a heart attack, and even through he recovered, he was never quite the same afterward.” A shiver wracked his body. “If the government had decided I was involved, I would never have been permitted to return here again. For that, more than even the theft, I will never forgive my father. I think I could have survived losing my career, but there is no way I could have survived losing the right to look at this.”

Lupin nodded, his expression uncharacteristically somber. “I can understand that. I would feel the same way, if I were in your shoes. I’ve considered becoming an expat, but I need to build my career here first. That’s another reason why I hope to find the tomb. If I can locate that, my reputation and career will be made, and I’ll never have to work elsewhere again if I don’t want to.” 

“It definitely would insure you a permanent place,” Severus agreed. The last rays of the sun faded, and he glanced up, watching as the stars began to appear in the crystalline sky. “Time for dinner, I suppose. And an early night for me, since I want to start that new grid at first light.”

“All right.” Lupin finished his tea and set the cup aside. “Thank you for the tea,” he said as he rose and extended his hand. “I enjoyed it as usual.” 

Severus rose as well, offering Lupin his hand without even thinking about it, a change that had occurred gradually over the last six weeks and would have annoyed him if he’d thought about it. But he didn’t. “Your turn to make it tomorrow,” he told Lupin. “And don’t forget the cream!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Lupin assured him, giving his hand a little squeeze before releasing it. “Cream, your favorite tea, and biscuits. I’ll have everything just as you like it.” 

Not surprisingly, Lupin always did, but Severus’ admonition was routine by now. “Right,” he acknowledged, unconsciously curling his hand closed to retain the warmth where Lupin’s had been. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then, unless I break away and stop by your dig in the afternoon.”

“Feel free,” Lupin replied, smiling. “You’re always welcome, and I’m always happy to see you.”

“I still say you are far too easy to please,” Severus replied with a snort. He supposed there wasn’t any further reason to delay - not that he _wanted_ to stay in Lupin’s company, of course - so he turned and picked up the tray. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Dr. Snape. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lupin’s voice was as soft and warm as the look he gave Severus before he turned and walked away, heading back to his own tent. Severus watched him go, ignoring the part of his brain that was urging him to go after Lupin and take him up on what he’d been offering for weeks. But as tempting as that was - and, he had to admit, it _was_ tempting - it wasn’t going to happen. Severus was simply too cautious to engage in a fling, even with an attractive man who claimed to want him as badly as Lupin did. 

Sighing, he turned and made his way back to his tent, and his solitary bed. And if Draco looked happy and sated when he reported for work in the morning, Severus knew he was going to be hard pressed not to punch him in the mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

“I can’t believe this!” Severus said, raising the torch higher and watching as it reflected back to him off of a multitude of gleaming surfaces. In all his years as an archaeologist and for all the discoveries he’d made in the previous twenty years, nothing could begin to compare with the sight before his eyes.

“Get Draco,” he said to the man behind him without turning his attention from the treasure before him, afraid it would disappear if he so much as blinked. “Now!” There was a sound of scurrying footsteps, but he barely paid attention, stepping closer to get a better look at his discovery.

Despite his fears that the queen’s tomb had been looted, nothing could have been further from the truth. As he’d suspected, they’d uncovered the entryway early in the morning, the large slab of stone which blocked it still intact. It had taken all of the morning to photograph, measure, document, and take all precautions to be sure the slab wouldn’t be damaged when they moved it. Because of the confined space, it had taken six strong men to lift it out of the way, and then Severus Snape had been the first to step into the tomb of Hetephernebti, Queen Consort of the Pharoah Djoser, best known ruler of the Third Dynasty of the Old Kingdom.

Rather than an empty cavern, though, the tomb was filled with all the funerary goods befitting a Queen. Jars and bottles, jewelry and stellae, all still intact, with the dried and delicate remnants of what had been bolts of cloth and sheaves of grain scattered among them. And, central to everything, was a massive stone sarcophagus, the exterior of which was elaborately carved with hieroglyphs. The dust of forty-five centuries lay thickly on everything, but it in no way detracted from the magnificent sight.

Then Draco arrived, and his real work began. Lost in an antiquarian’s dream, Severus started the long, involved task of inventorying and documenting each and every item in the tomb. It would take weeks, perhaps months, but he didn’t mind. Time flew. Food and drink were brought, and Severus snatched mouthfuls in between typing notes on his laptop and taking photos with his camera. An electrical cord was run from the camp generator down into the tomb, providing light and power, and Severus lost all track of time as the past absorbed him completely.

“Dr. Snape?” Lupin’s voice broke through his reverie, and he glanced up to see Lupin entering the tomb, wide-eyed with obvious amazement. “You found it! Congratulations, it’s absolutely brilliant!” 

Severus drew in a somewhat shaky breath and rose to his feet, surprised when it felt as though the ground shifted beneath him. He put out an arm, catching himself against the chair he’d been sitting in, annoyed that for some reason his knees were suddenly weak. 

“Yes, yes it is, isn’t it?” he replied, unable to keep the pride and pleasure out of his voice, although it was hoarse from the dust he’d been breathing. “Did someone send for you to come see? Sorry, I should have done so myself, but I was too absorbed.”

Lupin wasted no time in hurrying to Severus’ side and sliding one arm around his waist to support him. “No, no one told me anything. I didn’t even know you’d found the queen’s tomb until I got here. I came looking for you because it was our tea time, and I was worried something had gone wrong when you didn’t show up.” 

“Oh.” Severus blinked, surprised that so much time had passed. They’d found the door at just past six that morning, and if it was after time to meet with Lupin, it must be well past eight at night. “I didn’t realize. There’s so much to do, you know. This is going to take months, and I need to call the Supreme Council of Antiquities...”

“Later,” Lupin said firmly, steering him toward the entrance of the tomb. “Once the Council and the Egyptian government hear about what you’ve found, I’ve no doubt they’ll give you all the time you need to work and catalogue your findings. Right now, you need something to eat - and to celebrate!”

“But there’s so much to do!” Severus protested, waving a hand at all the stuff around him. “I can’t stop!”

But Lupin kept herding him inexorably to the entrance, ignoring his protests. “You have to stop, or you’ll drive yourself to exhaustion. The queen has been here for forty-five centuries. She can wait until tomorrow for you to get back to her.”

If Severus had been less shaky, he might have fought Lupin, but as he moved on jelly-like legs, he realized Lupin was right. “Very well,” he grumbled, leaning on Lupin more than he would have liked. “I suppose I am rather thirsty.”

“And hungry too, no doubt.” Lupin supported him securely as they exited the tomb. “Come on, let’s go into town, and I’ll treat you to dinner and champagne to celebrate your discovery. How does that sound?”

“I take it Rahmad already closed the kitchen?” Severus asked, then sighed, knowing the answer. He probably did need food, and more than just a tin of biscuits, which was all he had on hand. And for once, he did feel a bit like celebrating. “I need a minute to change. I’m filthy. I’ll just put on a robe, and then we can go, all right?”

“All right,” Lupin replied agreeably. “But be forewarned that if you decide to stop and jot down ‘just one more note’ to yourself and end up not meeting me outside your tent in ten minutes, I _will_ go in after you, regardless of your state of undress.”

“I am duly warned,” Severus replied dryly. He held up one hand so that Lupin could see how his fingers were shaking, a sure sign that he needed to eat. “To be honest, I couldn’t hold a pen right now, much less manage to write with it. I’ll eat a biscuit when we get to my tent, but other than that I’ll be right out.”

Lupin glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was around, and then he brought Severus’ fingers to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’ll be waiting,” he said.

Severus snorted, then slipped into his tent. It took him only a moment to snatch up a biscuit out of the tin, and he chewed it as he stripped out of his filthy fatigues as quickly as he could. He did have to sit down for a few moments when his legs threatened to give out, but then he managed to slip a clean robe over his head and push his feet into his sandals, and throw pull some money from his wallet, tucking it into the robe’s single pocket. A quick wipe down with cloth dampened from bottled water and he was ready to go.

He stepped back out of the tent, the sugar from the biscuit making him feel a little stronger, and looked at Lupin. “I’m ready,” he said. “What about you?”

Lupin gave him an appreciative once-over and nodded. “I’m ready, too. Let’s get this celebration underway. You’ve earned it!” 

Severus waved a hand, although he was pleased that Lupin seemed genuinely happy about his success. There were times when fellow archaeologists were more jealous and spiteful than appreciative of someone else’s achievements, but Lupin didn’t strike him as that type. “Very well. We can take the jeep, but you’ll need to drive. I didn’t think to bring my license.”

“Not a problem,” Lupin replied, resting his hand at the base of Severus’ back as they headed toward the jeep. “I have mine. Just relax, put yourself in my hands tonight, and enjoy yourself.”

That was an appealing thought - probably too appealing, but Severus felt that, for once, he deserved it. He’d just made the biggest discovery of his career, the one that every archaeologist dreamed of, and it would probably occupy him for the rest of his life. Cataloguing, photographing, writing a book, then lecturing, traveling... yes, that was definitely worth celebrating, while he had the time and energy.

“Very well,” he said, giving Lupin an arch look. “But if you don’t have me home at a decent hour, I’m sure Draco will come looking for us.” He climbed into the jeep, settling in and fastening his seatbelt with a decisive click.

“That’s assuming Draco gets home at a decent hour himself,” Lupin replied as he swung himself into the jeep and buckled up. “I found a note from Harry letting me know that he’d gone off for a little celebration with Draco tonight.”

With that, he started the engine and steered the jeep in the direction of town. 

Forty five minutes later - during which time Severus described in detail everything he could remember of the inscriptions on the sarcophagus - they entered the small town that was the only civilization for miles in any direction. It wasn’t huge, but there were amenities such as a petrol station, a hotel which served visiting scientists and tourists who came to the area for more than the usual day trips, a couple of shops, and two restaurants. One of them was actually open twenty-four hours, and it was a favorite of the archaeologists at the Saqqara necropolis. 

“Ah, home away from home,” Severus said as Lupin pulled up in front of The Oasis. He unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out of the jeep, the scent of spicy lamb making his mouth water. “I’m starving. Think they’ll have an open table? Preferably one nowhere near Potter and Draco, if they’re here.”

Lupin chuckled as he killed the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out of the jeep as well, moving to Severus’ side. “It’s late enough that I’m sure the dinner crowd has dispersed - and I’m guessing Harry and Draco have by now as well.” 

“It is indeed my lucky day,” Severus drawled, feeling decidedly more cheerful. Sure enough, they were seated at a table within moments of walking in the door, and they had the place practically to themselves. Severus unwound enough to order a glass of wine to go with the lamb dish which was the special of the day.

“So what shall we drink to?” he asked, feeling expansive. “To having found the tomb of a queen, and to the finding of that of he who built it?”

“Let’s just drink to the queen’s tomb and the one who found it,” Lupin replied, lifting his glass. “Tonight is your night, and you deserve to enjoy your discovery without sharing the spotlight.” 

“Very well, then,” Severus replied, touching his glass to Lupin’s and then taking a deep, appreciative drink. “I haven’t had much to celebrate in the last few years, so this makes a pleasant change.”

Lupin drank deeply as well and refilled their glasses with the bottle the waiter had left at their table. “You’re overdue, then. I hope today will be a much-needed change in the wind for you. It’s past time that you had good things come your way.”

Severus looked at Lupin, but he read nothing but sincerity in Lupin’s eyes. He didn’t know why it surprised him every time he realized that Lupin truly did seem to like him, for whatever bizarre reason, but it did. Even after all these weeks in Lupin’s company, working together, sharing experiences and responsibility for the site, it was still a marvel that Lupin hadn’t gotten fed up with his temper and his acerbic tone. Instead Lupin seemed to enjoy it, and Severus wasn’t sure what that said about Lupin’s sanity.

“Thank you,” he said finally, accepting Lupin’s well wishes. “That would indeed be a pleasant change.” He sipped at his wine, considering his own feelings, and decided he’d had a change of heart. “I hope you find Imhotep’s tomb, too. I suppose in light of this, I can afford to be wrong about the translation.”

If the soppy look on Lupin’s face was anything to go by, Lupin was quite pleased by that remark. “Thank you, Dr. Snape,” he said softly. “I appreciate that a great deal.” 

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Severus replied gruffly. “I think we can do away with the titles, don’t you? Call me Snape, or Severus, or whatever, but leave off the honorific.”

“All right, then, I will.” Lupin nodded, smiling as he sipped his wine. “I don’t mind if you call me Remus, if you think perhaps we’ve moved past the last name stage.” 

It must have been the wine and lack of food making him feel so uncharacteristically expansive, but Severus nodded. “Fine, fine. Remus,” he replied, rather enjoying how it felt on his tongue. “Well, that’s settled, Remus. Colleagues, allies in arms, right? Since we both like Egypt so much, of course.”

“Of course.” Remus’ expression was somber, but there was a tell-tale gleam of amusement in his eyes as he lifted his glass again. “To Egypt and to friendly colleagues. I’m quite happy that I can enjoy both right now.”

Remus’ eyes seemed to glow softly in the low light, and Severus found he couldn’t tear his own away. Bluer than the desert sky, he thought a bit muzzily, and decided he liked that color very much. “Yes, yes,” he said, touching his glass to Remus’ and taking another drink. Then there was a plate of food in front of him, and he wondered for a moment how it had gotten there, until he saw their waiter placing a plate in front of Remus as well.

“I’m starving!” he announced, then picked up his fork and began to eat. “Mmmm... tastes good. Really good.”

“I’m sure it does, given you probably half-starved yourself today.” Remus gave him a stern look. “Draco should have taken better care of you. If I’d known what was going on, I wouldn’t have let you go all day without a break like that.” 

Severus snorted. “Draco is not my nursemaid, and he knows better than to tell me what to do,” he replied, waving his fork for emphasis. “You... you’re just _bossy_ , you know. Then you blink those big blue eyes to try to make someone feel it was all their idea to start with. I’m on to you, you know. You’re bossier than I am. You just hide it better.”

Remus glanced up from his lamb, appearing startled, and then he chuckled and shook his head. “I should have known you’d figure out my little secret.” He leaned forward, his expression turning mischievous. “I’d _love_ to tell you what to do, preferably while you’ve got a pair of cuffs around your wrists and maybe a collar around your neck.”

That idea sounded wildly appealing to Severus. His mouth went dry, and he grabbed his wineglass, downing the contents in a single gulp, then looked at Lupin again. “Would you wear the fedora?” he heard himself asking, without really meaning to.

Remus choked on his wine and sputtered and coughed before he was able to answer. “Are you serious?” he asked, gazing at Severus with obvious incredulity. 

Somehow the wine seemed to have taken over Severus’ power of speech, and he couldn’t control it. “Yes.” He looked down at his plate, feeling warmth in his cheeks. “I told you I liked that film.”

“Well, yes...” Remus finished off his own glass and refilled it, seeming at a loss for words - for once! “I know you like the film. I didn’t know you like _me_.” 

Severus rolled his eyes, although he was rather pleased to have disconcerted Remus. Remus was always doing that to him, and it was about time for a little payback. “I wouldn’t have tolerated you for five minutes if I didn’t,” he said smugly.

“Mmmm...” Remus leaned his chin in his hand and smiled somewhat muzzily. “That’s good to know. In that case, I’d leave my hat on, just for you.” 

The way that Remus’ lips tipped up at the edges was utterly fascinating, and Severus found himself staring, longing to stand up, lean across the table and see if Remus’ smile tasted as good as it looked. But he still didn’t quite trust his legs, so instead he took another sip of the wine that was going to his head and making him feel more relaxed than he had in... well, maybe than he had _ever_. 

“Do you really have a whip?” he heard himself ask, then nodded; he’d wondered if that was another case of Remus having him on.

“No.” Remus chuckled and picked up his wineglass again, the lines of his face and body softened as if he too was more relaxed than usual. “I’d probably hit myself in the face if I tried to use one. Just the hat, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh.” Oddly disappointed, Severus sighed. “I suppose the hat will have to do,” he said. 

No longer hungry, Severus pushed his plate aside, then refilled his glass and Remus’. To his surprise the bottle was empty, and he frowned, trying to recall just how many glasses he’d drunk, but everything since they’d entered the restaurant was nothing but a pleasant blur. He shrugged, deciding that it didn’t really matter; he was with Remus, so he was safe enough. 

He sipped his wine, watching Remus’ fingers curved around the stem of his own glass. He’d had ample opportunity in the last several weeks to see just how strong Remus was, the way his body moved as he lifted and knelt and turned and bent. If he were perfectly honest with himself - not something he generally was, he admitted with an internal snort - he’d probably spent as much time watching Remus when they were working together as he’d spent helping with Remus’ excavation. Remus hadn’t seemed to mind, however, so it must be all right.

How would Remus’ strong hands feel caressing his bare skin? It was a question that Severus suddenly found maddeningly persistent. Then he wondered how many lovers Remus might have touched, and he felt a powerful surge of jealousy. Remus couldn’t touch anyone else; Severus wouldn’t tolerate it, not while he was denying himself the pleasure. Of course, Remus had said that he wanted a relationship with Severus, not just sex, and that thought was rather appealing. But first, of course, and especially right now, Severus was far more curious about the sex.

“I haven’t had a lover in twenty years,” he muttered, looking down at his glass, not even aware of speaking the thought out loud. “I’d probably be lousy at it.”

Remus blinked, seeming to need a moment to process the non sequiter, and then he shook his head, regarding Severus mournfully. “Twenty years? You’re overdue for a _lot_ of things, then.” He reached across the table and squeezed Severus’ hand lightly. “I doubt you’d be lousy. You’ve got too much passion and fire to be lousy in bed!”

That fact that Remus had replied to what Severus had considered a private thought puzzled him for a moment, but then he flushed with embarrassment and lowered his gaze. Remus’ words were a small bit of comfort, but Severus was still suffering from a twinge of self doubt. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, giving a diffident shrug. “I don’t remember being great before.” He raised his eyes and looked at Remus. “I bet you’ve had dozens of lovers, haven’t you?”

“No.” Remus paused and downed the rest of his wine as if he needed the fortification, and then he put the glass aside and continued. “I mean, it hasn’t been twenty years for _me_ , but I’m picky, you know? I don’t shag every man in sight. I know what I want and what I like, and I don’t settle.” He shrugged diffidently and looked away. “Besides, I have my work to focus on, and that usually comes first, until now.”

“Work is important,” Severus agreed, then looked at Remus closely, not certain if he was implying what Severus thought he was or not. But things seemed a little muddled in his head, although he was certain of a few things. First, twenty years _was_ a miserably long time, so long that he barely remembered what it felt like. His dreams involving Remus had been vivid enough, but no dream could ever compare with the real thing. And even though he might be lousy and out of practice, it might end up being forty years - or longer! - if he didn’t take Remus up on his offer. He liked Remus - he’d admitted it, hadn’t he? - and he found Remus quite desirable. And Remus wanted _him_ , which was almost mind boggling. And yes, he’d come to trust Remus. It had taken a long time, but Remus had stuck it out, and Severus had to give him credit for that. Finally, Severus _did_ have something to celebrate, and dammit, he felt like celebrating.

Reaching into the pocket of his robes, Severus pulled out the money he’d placed there and tossed a few bills on the table. Then he stood up somewhat wobbly, and he stared down at Remus with a regal expression that made him look like a descendant of the Egyptian royalty they had unearthed indeed.

“Since you are picky, and so am I, perhaps we might find each other satisfactory,” he said, holding out a hand to Remus before he changed his mind. “If you’re still interested, come with me.”

Remus stared at Severus’ outstretched hand, looking befuddled, but after a moment, he clasped it and rose to his feet, wavering in place a little. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I’m still interested, but I don’t want you throwing things at me tomorrow.”

“I may throw things at you tomorrow regardless,” Severus pointed out logically. Remus’ hand was warm in his, and he tugged a bit to emphasize his point. “Although if you are getting cold feet, Lupin, I just may have to off you and bury your lifeless carcass in the desert.” He wagged the finger of his free hand under Remus’ nose with a warning glare. “No one would find the body, you know. I would never steal, but murder isn’t out of the realm of possibility.”

Remus blinked at the finger aimed at him, appearing blearily alarmed. “I’m too young to die, so I suppose we’d better go somewhere and shag.”

Severus rolled his eyes, which was a bad idea because it made the room roll as well. He blinked until the spinning stopped, then pulled Remus after him toward the door. He was vaguely aware of their waiter watching them with a puzzled look on his face, but for once, he really didn’t care what anyone else thought. This was _his_ celebration; Remus had said so, and Severus was going to celebrate in the fashion he damn well pleased.

Outside, the cool air washed over him, clearing his head to an extent. It was enough for doubt about his actions to raise its ugly head, and yet also for desire to rise up as well. He glanced at Remus, taking in his handsome features and broad shoulders, and decided that he wasn’t going to stop now. If things went horribly wrong, he could blame it on the effects of the alcohol; he’d never have a better chance to do as he really wished without having to take full responsibility for his actions.

The hotel was only two doors down, and he turned in that direction, faking a slight stumble to cover his momentary hesitation. “This way.”

“All right.” Lupin followed along obediently, seeming content to let Severus take the lead for now, although Severus wondered how much that would change once they were alone and things began heating up. 

They entered the hotel, and Severus moved from holding Remus’ hand to putting an arm around his waist as though helping to support his weight. The desk clerk looked up with a raised brow, and Severus rolled his eyes and gave a put upon sigh.

“We’ve had a bit too much to drink to drive back to Saqqara tonight,” he said. “And I don’t have my wallet. Lupin, show the man your identification and credit card. We’ll need a single room with two beds.”

It took a couple of tries for Remus to fish his wallet out of his pocket, but he managed it at last and opened it up to offer the clerk his ID and credit card. “Here you go!”

The clerk took the cards, wrote something in his register, then passed the cards back. “You’re fortunate I still have a room. It’s on the third floor,” he said, holding out a key. “Unfortunately it only has a single large bed. There’s a sofa, however...”

“That’ll do,” Severus replied, helping Remus tuck his cards back into his wallet before taking the key. “I’ll put _him_ on the sofa. Come on, Lupin, let’s go before you fall down.”

He turned them toward the stairs, impatient to go now that he’d made up his mind. “Think you can make it up two flights?” he asked Remus quietly.

“Mm-hmm...” Remus slung his arm across Severus’ shoulders and leaned against him, humming tunelessly as they headed toward the stairs. “Just don’t drop me!” he sing-songed. 

“If I do, I’ll be sure that it’s on your head and not somewhere that might cause damage,” Severus replied tartly. He was definitely more sober than Remus was, and he wondered briefly if Remus was far enough gone that he might just fall sleep. That would be just the kind of luck that Severus would expect to have normally, but he told himself that Remus himself had said that Severus was due for more good luck.

Remus laughed and gave Severus’ shoulders a little squeeze. “Someone else who likes me for my looks instead of my brain. I have groupies at university. Did you know that? Whole gaggles of girls who don’t care about archaeology at all, but they take my classes because I’m ‘cute’.” He sighed wistfully. “It gets tiresome sometimes.” 

“I’m not surprised you have have women throwing themselves at you,” Severus replied dryly as they started up the second flight of steps. “It must be awful to be wanted so much. I can see your point.”

“It is when you’re trying to teach students who aren’t interested in what you have to say,” Remus replied with another quiet little sigh. “I hope they do learn something while they’re in my classes, but it’s frustrating to show them why I love antiquities and ancient cultures and languages only to look out at the class and see rows of young women trying to flash their cleavage at me.” 

“It’s hardly your fault if they’re taking your class for a ridiculous reason,” Severus sniffed, offended on Remus’ behalf, especially when he thought about stupid girls actually trying to use breasts to impress him. “You should mark them down for wearing revealing clothing. Either that, or have me in to deal with them.” He smiled evilly. “I can assure you that no female would dare try to flash cleavage or anything else at you once _I’ve_ dealt with them.”

Remus stopped and looked at him, and Severus could see that Remus’ booze-soaked brain was trying to focus. “That sounds an awful lot like you want me to stick around after this excavation is over.”

Perhaps Severus wasn’t quite as over the effects of the wine as he’d thought he was, for his tongue to get so carried away. “We’ll see,” he replied as he stopped in front of the door to the room they’d been given, double checking the number on the key with the one on the plaque to make sure he’d gotten it right. “I still reserve the right to dump you in the desert, remember?”

“And then in another forty-five centuries, someone will be excavating and studying _me_.” The thought made Remus giggle - actually giggle! - like a mischievous boy.

Severus lifted a brow at the giggle, then sighed and pushed the door open. “Come on, Lupin, I’ll put you to bed. You’re obviously in no condition for anything.” Which was too bad, really, but Severus was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all.

“You don’t think I’m in any condition to shag you?” Remus appeared affronted by that, and Severus suddenly found himself hauled into the shabby little hotel room. Remus shut the door with a slam and pushed Severus against it, aligning their bodies as he pressed close. “You’re wrong about that,” he said, and then he captured Severus’ mouth in a kiss, one that seemed even more possessive than the long-ago kiss at the restaurant. 

Taken by surprise, Severus didn’t realize what was happening at first, his brain obviously lagging behind current events. But his body didn’t seem to suffer from the same delay, melting into Remus’ arms, his lips parting of their own accord in answer to Remus’ demands. His heart began to pound in his chest, his body seeming to come to life after a long hibernation. Remus hummed softly, a satisfied sound, as he explored Severus’ mouth at a leisurely place, seeming intent on reacquainting himself with the taste and feel of it thoroughly, and he ran his hands along Severus’ sides in a proprietary caress, letting them come to rest on Severus’ hips. 

Somehow Severus had wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders, and he surrendered to the kiss, a soft moan escaping him as Remus kissed him as no one ever had before. Perhaps he _had_ been wrong in thinking Remus was too drunk to shag, but he wasn’t about to apologize for his doubts, not when they’d prompted Remus to _this_. Happy little noises escaped Remus as he released Severus’ mouth and began trailing kisses along Severus’ jaw to his ear, tracing the shell and tugging the lobe, and then moved down to his throat, nuzzling beneath Severus’ ear. 

Severus’ skin felt as though it was coming to life; everywhere Remus’ lips touched, it seemed to tingle as though it had never been touched before. He gasped softly as Remus tugged on his earlobe, and then he tilted his head to one side in submission, giving Remus better access to his neck. “Yes...” he groaned, wanting more, wanting anything and everything Remus planned to give him.

Severus felt the brush of Remus’ lips against his jugular just before Remus bit down lightly on his throat, growling softly with obvious satisfaction.

It was a good thing the door was at his back and that Remus was pressed against his front, or else Severus thought that his suddenly watery legs would collapse completely. The feel of Remus’ teeth on _that_ spot seemed to stimulate every nerve in his body, while the growl had his toes curling hard in his sandals. Desire coiled within him, making him ache with need. “More!” he demanded, his fingers curling into the fabric of Remus’ shirt.

He could feel Remus’ lips curving into a smile against his throat, and there was no mistaking the mischievousness in Remus’ voice as he asked, “More what?” 

“More everything,” Severus hissed, pressing against Remus blatantly. Then he dropped his voice to a low, almost dangerous tone. “Unless you really aren’t in any condition to shag me, and you’re trying to postpone the inevitable.”

“You’re awfully pushy,” Remus drawled, lifting his head to look at Severus. “Are you going to be that pushy when I’ve got you naked and flat on your back?” 

Severus licked his lips, then treated Remus to a haughtily raised brow. “At the rate you’re going, I doubt you’ll ever find out,” he replied.

Remus laughed and fixed Severus with a predatory look that belied his harmless tweedy professor persona. “Oh, I think I will,” he said, reaching out to unfasten the buttons on Severus’ robes, his fingers a little slow and clumsy but still managing to get the job done. 

“Do you now?” Severus sounded more ragged than he would have liked, but Remus’ look did odd things to his ability to breathe. He glanced down, watching Remus’ hands, then shivered, thinking about Remus’ fingers on his bare skin at last. He drew in a breath. “You seem rather sure of yourself for someone who’s completely pissed.”

“Did it plenty of times when I was at university,” Remus replied, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused intently on getting Severus’ robes off. “I’d rather shag you sober, but you might change your mind tomorrow. I figure if I shag you now, you might like it enough to let me do it again when we aren’t pissed.”

“I don’t want to hear about your wild flings at university,” Severus snarled, a possessive flare of jealousy making him go rigid against Remus. “And I’m not _that_ pissed.”

“Well, I am,” Remus replied cheerfully as he pushed Severus’ robes off his shoulders. “But it isn’t going to stop me from shagging you. I don’t really want to talk about wild flings either,” he added, drawing back and gazing at the bare skin he’d revealed with an unabashedly admiring gaze. “They don’t matter. They aren’t you.”

“Damned right,” Severus agreed, slightly mollified by the words and the look in Remus’ eyes. One side effect of his small snit, however, was that he completely forgot to be self-conscious about having anyone see him half naked, much less someone as good-looking as Remus. He tilted his chin up and gave a sniff. “So you’d better do your best to convince me it’s worth doing this again.”

“I will.” Remus gazed at him with inebriated solemnity and reached out to cup his cheek in one hand. “Because I know I’ll want to do this again.” 

Severus’ breath caught, and he wondered how Remus could possibly know that, since they’d not even done anything yet. But he didn’t need an attack of nerves at the moment, so he lifted a brow. “Let’s just concentrate on _this_ time,” he said.

“All right,” Remus replied amiably - and apparently took Severus’ remark as his cue to begin an all-out assault on Severus’ senses because he immediately swooped in to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses from Severus’ throat to his chest, lapping at Severus’ bare skin and slipping his hands beneath the fabric of Severus’ open robes to let them roam as if seeking to memorize the feel of Severus’ body.

The sensations were intense, almost overwhelming, and Severus gasped, holding on the Remus’ shoulders to keep himself from sliding down the door in a puddle. It was as though flashes of fire ignited in the path of Remus’ mouth and fingers, and Severus arched into Remus’ hands, pressing closer, Remus’ touch even more arousing than he’d imagined it would be.

“Please!” he heard himself beg, not even recognizing his own voice and not caring in the slightest. “I want to feel you...”

“You will.” Remus lifted his head and gazed at Severus with banked heat in his eyes. “But you need to be more naked first.” He glanced down at himself. “So do I.” 

Impatiently Severus pushed his robes off his arms, then down his hips so that they landed in a puddle on the floor, leaving him clad in only dark green boxers. Reaching out, he began to unfasten the buttons of Remus’ shirt, haste making him clumsier than he would have liked. “I should have made you wear robes, too,” he said, then gave a snort. “And you don’t even have the damned fedora!”

“Next time,” Remus promised solemnly as he reached out to caress Severus from collarbone to navel with the barest brush of his fingertips. “You look even sexier than I imagined. All long and lean.” He trailed his fingers back up and flicked his thumb across Severus’ nipple playfully, his expression turning predatory again. “I like it.”

Severus shivered at the light touch, which aroused but did little to satisfy. He might have scoffed that he was nothing special to look at, but the expression on Remus’ face and the intensity of his eyes was undeniable. For whatever reason, Remus really did desire him, and that was perhaps the most arousing thing of all.

“Good,” he replied huskily, finally managing to free the last of Remus’ buttons. He tugged Remus’ shirt free from his trousers and ran his hands over the smooth planes of Remus’ chest, hardly able to believe that he was finally seeing and touching what he’d dreamed about. “I like your muscles,” he said, then teased Remus’ nipples just as Remus had done to him.

Remus gasped, and Severus saw his blue eyes darken with arousal as he arched against Severus’ hand. “And I like _that_ ,” he said, tweaking Severus’ nipple in return. 

“So do I,” Severus replied, feeling an odd sensation of power at having made Remus react, one almost as intense as the feeling of Remus teasing him. Eager to find out what else would make Remus gasp and moan, Severus curved his fingers and lightly raked his nails down Remus’ chest, just hard enough to turn his skin pink but not enough to hurt. “How about that?”

“Oh, yes...” There was a growling undercurrent in Remus’ voice as he arched against Severus’ hand again. “I don’t mind a bit of roughness.” He smiled wolfishly before swooping in to catch Severus’ nipple between his teeth and tugging hard. “What about you?”

Severus gasped, his eyes widening at the intensity of the sensation, which seemed to send a jolt of pure desire through him. “Yes!” he managed to get out, before he scraped his nails back upward, along Remus’ sides, a little harder this time.

Remus wriggled pleasurably, and he reached out to grab Severus’ shoulders, steering him toward the bed. “Out of what’s left of your clothes and onto the bed,” he instructed, the firm note of command in his voice making it clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Fortunately, Severus wasn’t inclined to argue. He stepped out of his sandals and then pushed his boxers down and off, before pulling back the duvet on the large bed and moving to the middle of the mattress. Licking his lips, he watched Remus, one hand back over his head as he put his body on unconscious display. “What are you planning to do?” he asked, intrigued by this more forceful side of Remus.

Shrugging out of his shirt, Remus let it fall to the floor, and he toed off his shoes as he unfastened his trousers. “I thought that was obvious,” he said, stripping off his trousers and letting Severus see the extent of his arousal. “But if you want a hint, step one involves trying to make you scream.”

Watching Remus bare himself was an arousing display, even more so when Severus saw just how affected Remus was in return. His eyes roamed avidly over Remus’ bare skin, and he ached to be able to touch as well.

“Then get over here and get started,” he said, beckoning impatiently. “I’ve waited twenty years, and I don’t want to wait another minute.”

Laughing, Remus stripped off the rest of his clothes and leaped onto the bed, straddling Severus. “Then you won’t have to,” he said, and then he leaned in to capture Severus’ mouth in another deep, drugging kiss. 

Severus didn’t hesitate to wind his arms around Remus’ shoulders and pull him down, returning the kiss with enthusiasm rather than skill. He arched up, wanting more contact, wanting to feel Remus pressing him down, wanting more of _everything_. It was as though the appetites he’d repressed for twenty years had suddenly awakened and were demanding attention, leaving him starving. Starving for Remus.

And Remus seemed eager to slake his hunger, pressing him against the mattress and giving him the exquisite pleasure of skin against skin. “Feels good,” Remus murmured against his lips, rocking slightly to tease him.

The slide of Remus’ warm skin against his made Severus cry out, but he wanted - needed - much more. “Don’t forget about the desert!” he warned, running his nails down Remus’ back and then giving him a sharp smack on the hip to emphasize his point. 

Chuckling, Remus arched against Severus’ hands, humming with apparent pleasure, and then he gave Severus a wicked smile. “Oh, I won’t forget. I’m going to do everything I can to avoid it.” 

With that, he began kissing, licking, and nipping his way down the length of Severus’ body, making his destination clear. 

Severus could barely breathe, anticipation growing as Remus traveled downward. Every brush of Remus lips made his arousal grow stronger, made the ache of need within him rachet up another notch, until he felt almost ready to shatter from that alone. “You’re a damned tease,” he managed to gasp, as he threaded his fingers into Remus’ hair, which was just as silky soft as it looked. “That, or you’re trying to kill me first!”

He could feel Remus’ chuckle vibrating against his skin as Remus continued his slow, torturous way down - and then Remus engulfed him in wet heat, drawing him deep. 

The sensation of Remus taking him in forced an inarticulate cry from Severus’ throat. His fingers tightened in Remus’ hair and his head rolled back on the pillow as he felt as though he might fly apart from the overwhelming intensity of sensation. Breathing hard, he fought the urge to thrust his hips, not wanting the exquisite pleasure to end too soon. 

When he was certain he had at least a tiny bit of control, he looked down at Remus. “Definitely.... trying to... kill me,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

Remus glanced up at Severus, looking quite pleased with himself, and he only intensified his ministrations, as if trying to kill Severus with pleasure was indeed his goal. He seemed entirely focused on wringing every bit of pleasure from Severus’ body as possible, on taking Severus to the heights of ecstasy, as if there was nothing and no one else in the world other than Severus. 

Severus had always prided himself on his strength and self-control, but there was no way for him to resist Remus’ onslaught. Nothing had ever felt so incredible, so acute, all-consuming, and he had no defense against it. Pleasure blazed along every each of his body, coiled tighter and tighter within him, until it suddenly snapped, forcing a cry that was nearly a scream from Severus’ throat, pulses of rapture bursting through him until he felt as though he might fly into a million pieces.

At some point, he became aware of his body again, and he drew in a shuddering breath, hearing the blood still pounding in his ears. He looked down at Remus as his body seemed to sag in boneless satiation, trying to find his voice to express just what Remus had made him feel. “Oh,” he managed to get out, which was totally inadequate, but it was the only coherent thing that came to his brain.

Licking his lips, Remus slid his way up and stretched out beside Severus, stroking Severus’ chest tenderly. “Do I get a reprieve from the desert?” 

The caress of Remus’ hand made Severus melt even more, if that were possible, a delicious, contented lassitude seeming to suffuse his whole body in the aftermath. “For tonight, yes,” he drawled, with the hauteur of a sultan bestowing a favor. “Tomorrow... well, we’ll see.”

Smiling, Remus leaned in to kiss Severus, not demanding or possessive this time, but warm and affectionate. “I’ll take what I can get,” he said, still caressing Severus as if soothing him in the aftermath.

Severus returned the kiss, and though he wasn’t a touchy-feely type of person, he was feeling quite tolerant at the moment. He rolled onto his side, facing Remus, and ran his own hand down Remus’ chest. “Now that you mention it,” he said, lifting a brow, “I thought that what you’d planned to take was me. Or have you changed your mind?”

“Oh, yes, I still want to.” Remus caressed Severus’ cheek and then buried his fingers in Severus’ hair. “But we’d need lube for that.”

“Of course,” Severus replied, flushing slightly at having forgotten something so basic. It really had been a long time, but he’d have to see to remedying that, and soon. After what Remus had made him feel, he wasn’t at all anxious to wait twenty more years.

But that didn’t alleviate the situation at hand, so to speak. “Well, I’m nothing if not innovative,” he said, smirking slightly as he slid his hand lower, curling it around Remus’ arousal and stroking him experimentally. “I may have forgotten quite a bit, but this is something that is akin to riding a bicycle, I believe.”

He felt a shudder wrack Remus’ body, and he saw Remus’ eyes darken with need - all for him. 

“Feels good so far,” Remus murmured, tightening his fingers in Severus’ hair. 

“I always was at the top of my class,” Severus replied with a wicked chuckle. He stroked Remus again, slowly and carefully, then more firmly. He leaned toward Remus, kissing him teasingly, before moving his lips along Remus’ jaw. Dropping his voice to a low, sultry tone, he murmured with his lips close to Remus’ ear. “I’m not going to forget about the fedora, you know. You promised to shag me with it on, and I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Whatever you want,” Remus groaned, rocking his hips restlessly. “Whatever you need, you can have it. Just don’t stop!” 

“I have no intention of stopping,” Severus replied, pleased with the sounds Remus was making and the way he moved as though seeking more. He continued to speak in a wicked, teasing drawl, his breath brushing Remus skin. “I want make certain you enjoy this so that you’ll be anxious to shag me. I want you to tie me up and ravish me until we’re both screaming in pleasure.”

The words seemed to fan the flames of Remus’ arousal, his groans devolving into inarticulate moans as his body grew taut, quivering on the edge. It only took a few more strokes, and Remus fell, crying out Severus’ name as he shattered in Severus’ arms.

Severus watched avidly, not wanting to miss anything of the expression on Remus’ face. There was something about knowing that _he_ was the one giving Remus this pleasure, making him cry out that made Severus feel smugly satisfied and yet at the same time a trifle awed. It was rather like when he’d discovered the queen’s tomb that morning, a whole world of possibilities laying itself at his feet. _He_ had done this, had made Remus go completely wild with just a touch and few murmured words, and it gave him almost as much satisfaction as the sensations of his own body.

With a little purr of pleasure, Severus removed his hand. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and moved to the en suite bathroom. It took only a moment to clean up, then he returned to the bed with a warm, wet cloth, and cleaned Remus up as well. 

Snaking out one arm, Remus pulled him close and nestled against him, humming contentedly. “Thank you,” he murmured drowsily, stroking Severus’ bare skin as if he didn’t want to lose contact even now.

“You’re welcome,” Severus replied. He was non-plussed for a moment at Remus’ seeming intention of cuddling him like some oversized stuffed animal; he’d not shared a bed with anyone in longer than he could remember, even when he’d had the occasional encounter back at university. But he relaxed back against the pillows, enjoying the slow caress of Remus’ hand. Besides, it wasn’t as though he could kick Remus out of the bed if he was inclined to stay, and there weren’t any other rooms even if he had wanted to do so. It felt strange, but he was tired and sated and still a little tipsy from the wine. It might take him a while to fall asleep, but at least he was warm and comfortable in the meantime.

Lulled by the deep, regular sounds of Remus’ breathing, Severus was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus woke in the quiet hour before dawn, all his senses at alert. Frowning, he listened for whatever had pulled him from sleep, but the only things he could hear were the quiet exhalations of the man beside him.

Turning his head, Severus let his eyes linger on the relaxed lines of Remus’ face, which looked even younger and more boyish in sleep. It had been just over two weeks since they’d first slept together, and Severus still found it hard to believe that after twenty years of celibacy, he had acquired a lover. And not just any lover, either. Remus was attractive and intelligent - his equal in that, if Severus were being honest - and aggressive and inventive, and Severus was certain he’d had more sex in the last two weeks than in all of his life before combined. Not that he was complaining; if Remus was happy with his scrawny carcass, that was fine with Severus. 

He still couldn’t fathom why Remus was attracted to him, but he’d started to accept it. Since the morning after the celebration of Severus’ discovery of the Queen’s tomb, Remus had made it clear that he considered Severus _his_ in every sense of the word. Well, he’d made it clear after he’d ascertained that Severus wasn’t going to kill him and leave his body in the desert after all and that Severus had no regrets over what had happened. For his part, Severus might have had a bit of trepidation, but there definitely hadn’t been any regrets. Especially after they’d had sex again and Severus was too sated to feel anything but smugly content.

Returning to the excavation had presented some challenges to further intimacy, but either Remus was a brilliant tactician or he’d simply worked out how Draco and Potter managed to shag regularly without anyone else in their tiny community twigging to the fact. As it was, they had not only shagged at various locations, including the Queen’s tomb, the mess tent, and the back of the jeep - driven out far from camp, the only light provided by the huge, full moon - but they also managed to spend every night together, either in Remus’ tent or his own. It necessitated getting to bed late and rising early, but Severus thought the lack of sleep to be more than adequately compensated for by the shagging.

But even beyond the brilliant sex, Severus was actually starting to believe that Remus could be right about other things between them. They _did_ mesh well on a professional level, and Remus’ help with the translations of the Queen’s sarcophagus had been invaluable. They could - and did - talk for hours about the tomb and its rich treasures, cataloguing every item and discussing the relevance of some of the more unusual ones. Severus had never imagined himself in a long term relationship, but Remus was wearing down his resistance at a rapid rate. Of course, they’d have to see if they got on as well together when they were back in England and faced with the various stresses of life in the midst of other people, but Severus was beginning to think it might be worth taking a risk to find out if it would work.

Work... Severus sighed, knowing that he needed to get up and sneak back to his tent before the rest of the camp woke up. Once or twice, when he’d been making his way across the dark sands, he thought he’d seen movement, and two days ago, he was positive that he’d spied Draco slipping back into his own tent. If there were only the four of them, things would be far easier, but Rahmad and his helpers, as well as several of the guards and more skilled laborers had their own tents in the compound. Severus didn’t want to think what might happen if anyone found out and decided to object to the fact that the two most senior archaeologists on the expedition were engaging in an affair. 

Still, knowing what he needed to do and doing it were two very different things. Remus had gone into town the previous evening on some errands and had gotten back late, and Severus had already been in bed and dozing when he returned. Which hadn’t stopped them from engaging in slow, drowsy shagging, but it did mean that they hadn’t gotten to talk. Well, he supposed that things could wait until later that afternoon when they were finished for the day. 

Leaning close, Severus brushed his lips against Remus’ in a brief kiss. Remus stirred and woke just enough to smile drowsily and return the kiss, murmuring Severus’ name with warm affection before slipping back into slumber.

With another sigh, Severus steeled himself for the chill of the predawn air as he slipped away from Remus’ warm body and stood, tucking the covers about Remus before reaching for his clothes. He dressed quickly, then penned a note for Remus, telling him that he’d be working on the tomb stellae that day. With a last look at Remus’ sleeping form, he stepped out of the tent, then turned to slip around the corner and head for his own.

He’d only taken two steps, however, when he stepped on something that crunched under his sandal. Frowning, Severus lifted his foot, and then his eyes widened as he saw the faience beaded earring that he’d partially crushed. He recognized it immediately as one from the Queen’s tomb, but he didn’t understand how it could have gotten where it was. The most valuable items from the tomb - including all the jewelry - had been catalogued and carefully loaded into boxes to be taken to Cairo at the end of the week. 

Picking up the remnants of the earring, Severus stared at it, seeing that the hook which would have been inserted into an ear was stretched out and bent. Unless he’d done that when stepping on it - which seemed unlikely - it appeared that the thing had snagged on something. Perhaps that was how it had gotten here, then; a stray sleeve could have snagged the wire and caught it, and then it could have fallen off here, by Remus’ tent. It could have been Remus, or Draco, or even Severus himself who had inadvertently done it. It was careless, to be sure, and Severus was highly annoyed that the piece had been broken. Yet there was little help for it now, and he’d simply have to have a stern talk with everyone about being more careful with the pieces. They’d had to work quickly, it was true, but this kind of thing could reflect badly on his leadership.

He continued on to his tent, placing the earring in a small box before sitting down in front of his computer. There were always notes to be made and reports to write, and so he set to it, determined to get enough work done early that perhaps he could manage to take the evening off and coax Remus out into the desert. He’d found he had a taste for shagging out in the open, which had surprised him and apparently delighted Remus. 

Time passed quickly, and Severus looked up in surprise at the sound of the breakfast gong. He closed his computer and rose, finding himself eager to see Remus. They wouldn’t be alone, but at least they could talk over their tea, and Severus could find out if Remus would be able to get away from his work early that day.

The mess tent was sparsely populated when Severus entered, but people tended to come and go for nearly an hour as they traded off on showers. He poured out a cup of steaming tea, nodded to Rahmad, who grinned and handed him a plate of toast and bacon, then took a seat at one of the smaller tables to wait for Remus to arrive.

It wasn’t long before Remus entered the tent, greeting everyone cheerfully, but he had a look that was for Severus alone, one that Severus had learned to recognize. He made his way to Severus’ table and sat down across from him, appearing nothing more than friendly even as he brushed Severus’ leg with his foot under the table to accompany his salutation. 

Severus lifted a brow, but gave Remus a heated glance over the rim of his teacup. “Good morning, Dr. Lupin,” he drawled. “I hope you slept well?”

“Very well, Dr. Snape, thank you,” Remus replied, smiling pleasantly. “I hope you did as well.” 

“Hmmm... yes, I did, even though I was woken up after I first dozed off,” Severus said with a smirk. “Something disturbed me.”

“Really?” Remus managed to keep his expression innocent, although Severus could see heat in his eyes. “It must have been a rather big thing to wake you up.” 

“Big and rather insistent, as I recall, but I dealt with it, and it went away so I could get back to sleep.” Severus waved a hand in airy dismissal. “One learns to roll with the punches out here, you know.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of Remus, and he gave Severus a knowing look. “I’m sure you rolled over and took it quite well.” 

“I heard no complaints,” Severus drawled, taking another sip of his tea. “You must have gotten back rather late, since I didn’t see you before I went to bed. Was your errand to town successful?”

“Oh, er...” Remus glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “Yes, it was successful, actually.” He picked up a piece of toast and began buttering it, and when he spoke again, the casual tone sounded forced. “So, you said you were going to work on the stellae today? How is that going?”

Severus regarded Remus narrowly, his naturally suspicious nature immediately picking up on Remus’ discomfort with his question. Something about what Remus had been doing the previous evening was making Remus antsy, and his blatant attempt to change the subject didn’t fool Severus in the slightest.

“It’s going fine,” he said, then lifted a brow. “So what exactly were you doing in town yesterday? You never did say.”

Again, Remus glanced away, seeming unwilling to meeting Severus’ eyes, which was odd in and of itself, given how Remus had always seemed so open and forthright. “It was... personal,” he said at last. “Nothing important.” 

“Oh, really?” Severus asked, his tone more than a little sharp. Remus’ behavior was confusing and annoying him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Before he could ask another question, however, Draco came into the tent, looking around until he spotted Severus. The young man’s face was pale beneath his tan, and his grey eyes were wide. He moved with carefully controlled strides to Severus’ table, obviously trying to not to draw attention to himself, but Severus had known him far too long to be fooled. 

“Dr. Snape,” he said quietly when he reached Severus’ side. “You need to come with me, please. There is a... situation.”

“Oh?” Severus felt a cold stone drop into the pit of his stomach. First Remus’ odd behavior, and now whatever had Draco on the verge of panic. It was not shaping up to be a good day. “Very well.” He rose to his feet, giving Remus a somewhat aggrieved look. “We’ll talk. Later.”

If anything, Remus looked relieved, and he nodded. “Later, then.” 

With a mild glare, Severus turned and followed Draco out of the mess tent. “Now what is this all about?” he asked sharply. “Has someone been injured?”

“No, nothing like that,” Draco replied, glancing about before giving Severus a small shake of his head. “Wait until we’re in private. I think that would be... safer.”

Severus gave his assistant a glare but didn’t ask anything further until they reached his tent. “Now what is it? This had better be important, because I’m in no mood...”

Draco shook his head, and his controlled expression faded into one of sick apprehension. “I just came from the storage tent,” he said without preamble. “Dr. Saleef from Cairo asked for us to double check the inscription on one of the small ushabtis, because it possibly matched one from a stellae from the Sekemkhet excavation. I unlocked the safe to get it, and... well... it’s gone, sir.”

“The ushabti?” Severus asked, feeling his gut tighten. 

“No, sir,” Draco said. “Not just the ushabti. Both boxes of jewelry and small carvings that were in the safe. All the most valuable pieces we’ve catalogued in the last two weeks.”

“That isn’t possible!” Severus snapped, unwilling to believe that something so horrible could have happened to him. He’d been so careful! All the people who were connected to the excavation who could have even known about the valuables and where they were kept had been with him for at least nine months, most of them much longer. They’d all had to pass screenings with the local constabulary to make sure there were no criminals in their number, because the Supreme Council of Antiquities had no more desire to have things pilfered than Severus did himself. 

Whirling on his heel, Severus marched back out of his tent and made his way to the one where their equipment was stored, which also held the safe. Draco was hard pressed to keep up with his long-legged strides, but Severus didn’t care. He had to see for himself, to make certain it wasn’t some sick joke or that Draco had developed a sudden blind spot and hadn’t seen the boxes. If he were going to lose his career, his reputation, and everything he’d worked for, he damned well was going to look upon his ruination with his own eyes.

Unfortunately for him, it was neither a joke or a mistake. The boxes which he had placed within the safe with his own hands, which had been witnessed by Draco and Lupin as he stored them away, were indeed gone. An arctic cold gripped Severus, and he turned to Draco.

“Lock down the camp right now,” he said. “No one comes in, and no one leaves. As of this moment, everyone is under suspicion, do you understand? And that includes you. And myself.” Severus’ voice was bitter. “Use the shortwave radio to call the Council. They’ll send the police, but it could take a day or more for them to get here. Then have everyone assemble in the mess tent and stay there. I’ll question them myself, and we’ll have our own security search the camp. And I don’t want to hear any crap about rights and privacy, do you hear? As of this moment, no one in this camp has any rights at all. Not unless and until we find those boxes.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said, respect and a touch of relief in his tone. No doubt he was simply glad to have someone else to pass the burden along to, but Severus didn’t really care. Despite his words, Draco was probably the only person in the camp, besides himself, that Severus would stake his life on not having committed the theft. Draco could have bought and sold those boxes ten times over, but they were more precious to Severus than anything. More than his own life.

* * *

Less than an hour after Draco had given him the awful news, Severus sat at a table in his tent, typing up notes on his computer. He already taken a report from Draco and all of the security men. He’d dispatched four guards to watch the mess tent and stop anyone who tried to leave, and two others to the storage tent, the only other place large enough to hold more than three people. The remainder he’d set to searching the camp, and he had sent Draco to bring people to him one at a time from the mess tent for questioning. He’d started with the camp medic and Rahmad, so that they could be available if needed later in the day. Now he was waiting with empty dread for Draco to bring in Remus.

Severus didn’t want to suspect Remus, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that was whispering horrible things to him, things that made him sick to his stomach. He was trying to be objective, but his instincts were telling him that he’d been taken, duped by the one person around whom he’d finally lowered his defenses; and this time, he wasn’t certain he could resist what might be offered to him because of it.

“Dr. Snape? Dr. Lupin is here,” Draco’s voice said from outside, and Severus straightened his spine and set his face into cold, hard lines.

“Come in,” he replied, then steeled himself to face the man he least wanted to see at that moment.

Remus stepped inside and glanced around before fixing Severus with a curious look. “Severus, what’s going on?” he asked, sounding as bewildered as he looked. 

Unfortunately, Severus was well aware of how good an actor Remus was. “Sit, please,” he said, indicating the chair in front of his desk, keeping his tone level and businesslike. “This is an official investigation. As leader of this excavation, and as duly appointed representative of the Supreme Council of Antiquities at Saqqara, I am charged with attempting to determine the circumstances surrounding the theft of items which are the sole property of the Council and the citizens of Egypt. If you do not wish to cooperate with questioning, you will be held until the arrival of the police.”

“ _What_?” Remus gaped at Severus, his voice filled with astonishment. “What are you talking about? Was something stolen?” 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Severus asked with a frown. “Now. You are Dr. Remus Lupin, currently in Saqqara under license from the Council to perform excavations in search of the alleged tomb of Imhotep. Dr. Lupin, I need a full account of your activities from approximately four PM yesterday afternoon until nine AM this morning, including witnesses or any other corroborating evidence, such as receipts.”

“Dr. Lupin?” Remus shook his head, frowning. “Severus, what is this all about?” He paused, peering at Severus searchingly. “You don’t suspect I had anything to do with it... do you?” 

Remus looked so bewildered and innocent that Severus wanted to send him out and away and forget the horrible demon who was sitting on his shoulder whispering into his ear. Severus’ temper suddenly flared, his dark eyes flashing, something terrible rising up in him in reaction to his torment. 

“The only person I am one hundred percent certain didn’t do it is myself. The only person I’m ninety-nine percent certain didn’t do it was Draco. Everyone else is under suspicion, and I’m going to get to the bottom of this one way or another. Now, Dr. Lupin, do you care to tell me where you were yesterday afternoon and what you were doing? You alone of everyone in camp at this moment are known to have left camp between then and now. You and your assistant are the only people who have been part of this excavation for less than nine months, and there have been no other thefts in that time. You and your assistant are the only ones who could have had access to the keys to the safe, via your... association with the only two holders of those keys. Draco has already vouchsafed the location and activities of Potter during the time in question. Which leaves... you.”

Remus fell silent, an inscrutable mask falling over his features as he gazed steadily at Severus. “You do think it was me,” he said quietly. “This investigation is a formality. You’ve already decided who the guilty party is.” 

Severus heard the blood pounding in his ears. “It all makes sense now,” he said bitterly, the twisting knife of pain and secret guilt in him making him lash out. “Your interest in me. The bullshit about Imhotep’s tomb. All of it. You used it to get close to me, to keep me confused and blinded to what was really going on. Because you knew that any theft that happened here would be placed squarely on _my_ head! No one would ever suspect harmless Dr. Lupin of stealing the treasures of the Queen’s tomb, not when Severus Snape was there! After all, larceny is in the Snape genes, isn’t it? Like father, like son! You were playing me from the moment we met, weren’t you? Then you could walk away with everything I’d worked for, while I took the fall.” He gave a laugh that held no humor, his stomach twisting in pain as he thought about all he’d lost - and that had nothing to do with any five thousand year old baubles. “Tell me, Dr. Lupin, how hard was it to pretend to lust after me? Were you picturing your bevy of lust-crazed coeds, or did you get off on thinking that you were fucking me over literally and figuratively?”

Remus staggered forward and grabbed the back of the chair as if that was the only thing keeping him upright, and Severus saw a flash of hurt in his eyes so deep and intense that it bordered on anguish. 

“I thought you knew me,” he whispered. “I thought I’d earned your trust.” He drew in a deep breath and seemed to force himself upright, his expression going blank. “I didn’t do it,” he said flatly. “That’s my statement. Unless you have any conclusive evidence to connect me to the theft, then I assume I’m free to go. I have work to do.” 

Severus flowed to his feet. “You assume wrong,” he said stonily. He couldn’t believe Lupin was maintaining this guise of wounded innocence. He was going to force Lupin to admit what he’d done, no matter what it took. Force him to admit it before he began tempting and tormenting Severus with the same treacherous things his own father had done.

He picked up a box from his desk, opening it and lifting out the crushed earring. “I found this outside your tent this morning,” he said. “It’s from boxes which were stolen. I couldn’t understand how it could have gotten where it was, but I was foolish enough to assume it had been an accident. Then there was this morning in the mess tent, when I asked you what you’d been doing in town, and you were surprisingly evasive. Odd, for a man who supposedly has nothing to hide.”

“I told you it was personal.” Remus folded his arms across his chest, his voice neutral, bordering on cold. “It _was_ personal, and it’s none of your business. I didn’t steal anything, and I don’t know why the earring was outside my tent.” 

“Right.” Severus dropped the earring back in the box and closed it. Lupin was obviously just as cold and calculating as Severus believed him to be - as cold and calculating as Tobias Snape. He’d been such a fool, believing that anyone like Remus Lupin could want him for himself! He’d been right to doubt in the beginning, and he cursed himself for being a complete fool for giving in to Lupin’s sweet words. Well, he was going to pay heavily for that. He’d lost everything that mattered, and suddenly he felt empty. “I suppose the police and the courts will have the final say, but either way, my career is over. Congratulations, Lupin. You win whatever game it is you’re playing, and I lose everything. Maybe you really are smarter than I am after all.”

“No, Dr. Snape,” Lupin replied, his voice quiet and even. “We both lost.” 

“Get the hell out, Lupin, I never want to see you-” Severus said, only to be interrupted by Draco, who burst into the tent unannounced. 

“Dr. Snape! They found them!” he said excitedly. “The boxes. Hidden in the mess tent!”

“WHAT?” Severus gaped at his assistant as though he were speaking in tongues. “What in the hell do you mean, in the mess tent?”

“In the back, actually, in the food storage,” Draco said breathlessly. “We thought Rahmad must have done it, but his nephew Hakim has confessed. Rahmad apparently didn’t know anything about it, and we’ve had to restrain him because he’s threatened to kill Hakim.”

Severus could only stare at Draco, unable to believe what he was hearing. It _hadn’t_ been Remus! He’d been wrong, so very, very wrong, and suddenly the pain was even worse than it had been when he thought Remus had betrayed him. To his horror, the only one who had betrayed him had been himself.

“We’ll hold him until the police arrive,” Draco said, then gave a gusty sigh. “God, I’m glad that’s over. I was really worried!”

“Right,” Severus said numbly. “Let everyone else go.”

Draco nodded, smiled at Remus, and then left the tent. In his wake, there was silence, and Severus couldn’t force himself to look at Remus. 

The silence extended almost beyond endurance, and then without a word, Remus turned and exited the tent. Severus continued to stand there, looking at nothing - which was entirely appropriate, since nothing was all that he had left.


	7. Chapter 7

For the first time in living memory, the sight of Djoser’s magnificent pyramid didn’t give Severus the feeling of coming home.

He turned his eyes away, unable to bear the reminder of how much he had lost. Not that the two weeks he’d spent in Cairo had given him much of a respite, to be honest. He’d had to provide a full report to the Council on the events surrounding the theft and then provide testimony at the arraignment of the perpetrator, so every day, he was bludgeoned in the head with the reminder of exactly what he’d done. He even doubted that leaving Egypt would provide surcease from the alternating bouts of numb emptiness and soul-searing pain, but that was all that remained to him now. As of that morning, he was no longer in charge of Saqqara, having resigned his position despite the pleas of head of the Council for him to remain. 

All that was left for him now was to pack up his belongings and leave again. He would have simply had Draco toss his things in a trunk and send them on to spare himself the pain of having to return to the site of his greatest failure and shame, but Draco was too busy dealing with everything in Severus’ absence, and he would be busier still now that he was going to be responsible for the foreseeable future.

The driver stopped the jeep, and Severus got out slowly, keeping his eyes downcast, not wanting to see anything or anyone if he could help it. He made it to his tent by instinct and set about stuffing things randomly into his suitcase and trunk, not even looking at what he was packing. None of it mattered anymore. Nothing really mattered except escaping from Egypt and never coming back.

The sound of someone pulling aside the flap of his tent made him stop short, heart pounding in his chest with dread. Surely Remus wouldn’t...

“I saw Naranji parking the jeep, so I knew you were back.” Severus whirled at the sound of Draco’s voice, swallowing hard to keep himself from sagging in relief. He couldn’t face Remus at the moment; he simply could _not_. 

“Yes, briefly,” he replied, his voice flat and empty. Draco was frowning at him, arms crossed over his chest in what Severus could readily identify as annoyance.

“So, were you just going to sneak off again without saying anything?” Draco asked sharply, and Severus raised a brow in surprise. “I got a call on the shortwave, informing me of my new position. A position, you realize, that I am not qualified for and don’t particularly want.”

“You know the operations here better than anyone,” Severus replied, giving a slight shrug.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning to resign? I can’t believe you are walking away from the biggest discovery of your career! Are you mad?” Draco drew in a deep breath and ran his hand through his white-blond hair in a gesture of agitation. “Dr. Snape... Severus. You know I have the greatest respect for you, and I’m flattered that you think I could fill your shoes. But this is _your_ excavation. You need to stay here and finish what you started!”

Severus could only shake his head; he wasn’t about to get into this with Draco. “That simply isn’t possible,” he said, picking up a shirt from the top of his bed, folding it and stuff it into his trunk. “I am going back to England, then possibly somewhere else for a time. I’m due a great deal of time off; I might take some of it and do something that isn’t archaeology.”

Draco stared at him, then gave him a look of pity. “I knew you were a great scientist... but I never thought you were a coward. Until now.”

“WHAT?” Severus glanced up sharply, anger chasing away the dull ache with which he had lived for two weeks. “How dare you? What gives you the right to say-”

Anyone else might have backed down at the sight of Severus building up to a fury, but not Draco. Instead he held up a hand, interrupting Severus’ rant, his expression stern and far older than his years. 

“I’m head of this excavation now, so I have the right to say whatever I wish. Isn’t that what _you_ always said?” Draco asked. “And yes, I dare, because you _are_ being a coward! I’m not blind, and neither is Harry. I don’t know exactly what went on with you and Remus, but I can make a pretty accurate guess. You thought he was the thief, didn’t you? And you accused him of stealing the artifacts. I won’t get into why that was a really stupid thing for a man as smart as you to do, because I can tell from the way you look that you know it already.”

Severus didn’t answer. He continued to stare at Draco, but he couldn’t summon up the necessary ire to yell at him. Mostly because Draco was right, and having someone else tax him with his failure took the fight right out of him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, when Draco continued to look at him expectantly. 

“Doesn’t matter?” Draco gaped at him in disbelief. “Of course it matters! Dammit, Severus, you are obviously a mess, and Remus is, too! He doesn’t laugh or smile or seem to enjoy anything. It’s all work, work, work and utter professionalism, even with Harry and me. You’re in pain, and he is, too! Don’t you think the least you can do is apologize to him before you go slinking off to lick your self-inflicted wounds? I’d like to be left with at least _one_ senior archaeologist who is somewhere close to functional!”

Wincing at Draco’s too-accurate assessment, Severus turned away, unable to bear the accusation in his former assistant’s eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was see Remus. Not that he didn’t _want_ to apologize. He regretted what he’d said, regretted the insecurities which had made him say it, regretted hurting Remus and losing him. But feeling regret and sorrow and actually facing Remus and saying so were two very different things. He didn’t know if he was strong enough. He didn’t know if he could do it without either breaking down or coming across as so rigidly controlled and stiff that Remus wouldn’t believe he was sorry at all.

“I don’t think I can,” he murmured, more to himself than Draco, but Draco heard it nonetheless.

“You can, and you will,” Draco replied. “It might not make you feel better, and it might not even make _him_ feel better, but it has to be said, or it will end up destroying you both. So you’d better say it, do you understand me? Otherwise I will not authorize transportation for you out of the camp, and you can bloody well sit in this damned tent and rot until you do!”

Without waiting for an answer, Draco turned and stalked out of the tent, leaving Severus staring at his retreating back, wondering vaguely if Draco had been deliberately emulating him to make a point or if it was unconsciously picked up from long association.

After a moment, he turned and continued with his packing, but he was turning over the thought of actually seeing Remus and doing what Draco asked. He had no doubt that Draco would do exactly as he said, leaving Severus stranded unless he felt like taking off across the desert on foot. 

By the time he’d dealt with almost everything he owned, he’d flip-flopped a dozen times on whether he could bring himself to see Remus that day. But he knew it wouldn’t get any easier, not if he stayed another year, and he couldn’t hide in his tent forever. At some point, they’d run into each other by accident, and Severus knew that would be a hundred times worse, because he wouldn’t be prepared for it. No, it was better to get it over with and get the hell away as soon as he could. He’d get back to England and spend the next couple of months drinking himself into a pain-free stupor, and maybe after that, he could try to put the pieces of his life back together into something he could live with for the next forty years.

There was only the contents of his beside table left, and he stuffed them into his satchel and slammed the drawer. There was no choice, really, so it was better to get it over with as quickly as possible. He slung the satchel over his shoulder and left the tent, motioning to the first of the guards he saw.

“Please have Naranji get my suitcases loaded into the jeep at once,” he said. “I’ll want to leave within the hour.”

“Yes, Dr. Snape,” the guard replied, then turned and headed off on his errand. Severus wasn’t the leader any longer, but apparently his word still carried enough weight to get him instant action.

For his part, Severus turned and headed toward the area where Remus was scheduled to be excavating, assuming he was still keeping to his previous timetable. The sun was getting low in the sky, so work would be ending for the day relatively soon. That suited Severus just fine; he’d rather not have an audience for this, just in case Remus decided to say the things Severus had no doubt he would - and Severus knew he deserved whatever horrible truths Remus cared to voice.

As he drew near the area, he saw workers headed in the opposite direction. He avoided them as much as possible, keeping his head low and only responding to greetings with a distant nod of his head. He didn’t want to see these people and know that he’d never work with them again. These were the men who had worked with him to find Saqqara’s treasures, and he knew them all. But they were his men no longer.

After a few minutes, he saw Potter coming towards him, and he stepped back behind a sand dune, not wanting to having to put up with yet another dressing down from a man young enough to be his son. Fortunately Potter seemed too preoccupied with something on a piece of paper he was reading and didn’t notice Severus at all. Severus waited for a moment, glancing from where Potter had come to see if Remus might be following in his wake, but when he saw nothing, he drew in a deep breath and continued onward.

After another ten minutes, he caught the unmistakable sound of someone digging, and he proceeded slowly and silently until he reached the edge of a trench. He peered over the edge cautiously, catching slight of Remus below. His heart seemed to stop as he stared, the numbness of loss stealing over him once again. He’d had something truly exceptional within his grasp, and he’d fucked it up. Remus would never forgive him, but Draco had been right; Severus needed to say the words before he could move on, and perhaps Remus needed to hear them.

Moving along the edge of the trench to where it became more shallow, Severus stepped down onto the packed sand and slowly moved toward Remus. He paused several feet away - far enough so that Remus couldn’t hit him with the shovel, if he were so inclined - and drew in a deep breath.

“Remus,” he said, his voice sounding ragged to his own ears.

Remus straightened and whirled, his features registering shock before he quickly schooled them into a neutral mask. Pushing his shovel into the ground, he leaned against the handle and gazed at Severus impassively. 

“Dr. Snape.” Remus’ voice was cool and distant, a far cry from the warm, affectionate tone Severus had grown accustomed to. “What do you want?” 

It was all Severus could do to stand his ground and not turn and run away from Remus. It was unbearable the way things had changed, and Severus had thought that he couldn’t feel even more pain then he had over the last two weeks. But he discovered that he was wrong about that, as something inside him twisted agonizingly.

“I... I...” Severus stopped, his mouth dry, and he drew in a shaky breath before clearing his throat and summoning up the reserve of strength which had been the only thing which had kept him going when his father’s crimes had nearly destroyed him before. “I’ve resigned my position, and I’m returning to England,” he explained, taking refuge in the mundane as a momentary respite. But there was no putting it off, so he did what he had to do. “Before I go, I must tell you that I regret the things I said to you. It was unforgivable, and I don’t hope that you’d be generous enough to offer absolution. I have no defense for my behavior, and I... truly regret any pain I caused you.”

With that, he dropped his gaze and started to turn away, unable to bear seeing denial and rejection in Remus’ eyes. Again.

“I’m surprised,” Remus said, his voice still frosty. “I didn’t think you would be aware of exactly how indefensible what you did was, much less apologize for it. I suppose I should be grateful for that, at least.” 

Pain, swift and sharp, caused Severus to stumble, and he put out a hand to the side of the trench to keep himself upright. Every word Remus uttered flayed him to the quick, tearing open the barely-formed scabs over his self-inflicted emotional wounds. 

“If I could take it back, I would,” he said, then shook his head. “But I can’t. I won’t bother you futher. I just.... Goodbye, Remus. I hope you find the tomb.” He started to move away again, feeling his heart breaking with every step he took.

Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to be making any progress, and it took a moment for him to realize that the ground beneath his feet was tipping backward. He spun as he felt himself starting to fall, catching sight of Remus falling as well as the ground beneath them split in to, the halves angling downward. He grabbed for the sides of the trench, but there was nothing to stop his fall. Therefore he let himself go limp, squeezing his eyes closed as he fell and half-wishing the fall would kill him.

The drop seemed to go on forever, but it couldn’t have been too far, because Severus landed on what had to be a pile of sand with enough force to knock the wind out of him but not kill him. It hurt, and he lay stunned for several moments, watching helplessly as the halves of what was apparently a trap door rose above him and closed with a rather final-sounding thud, plunging them into darkness.

There was a long moment of silence, and then Remus’ voice echoed through the dark. “Bloody hell!” There was another moment of silence, and then in a quieter, gruffer tone, he added, “Are you all right?” 

Severus took a brief inventory of himself; he was going to hurt like hell, but he didn’t _think_ anything was broken. “As far as I can tell,” he replied, drawing in a hissing breath as he rolled onto his side. “You?”

“I’m fine,” Remus replied tersely. “I had the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” 

“Good.” Severus was relieved that Remus was all right, although now things were not only awkward, they were rather complicated. Unfortunately there wasn’t anything he could do about that at the moment, so he groped along the sand until he found the strap of his satchel. Tugging it toward him, he opened it by feel and ran his hands over the contents, looking for the torch he had taken from his bedside table.

While he groped around in the bag, he heard Remus shuffling around, every sound amplified in the utter silence of the underground room, and he assumed Remus was looking for a door. 

“You might want to hold still for fifteen more seconds, before you possibly trigger some trap or fall into an even deeper hole,” Severus said, breathing a soft sigh of relief as his hands closed around the familiar cylinder. One learned in the desert to have such things on hand for such an emergency, and he pointed it away, flicking it on and training it on the surface above their heads. It was at least twenty feet up, and the smooth stone joined with a barely detectable seam. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get back out the way we came in.”

“Obviously.” Remus made a frustrated noise. “Let’s check the walls for a way out, then.” 

“Right.” Severus rose slowly to his feet, then moved away from Remus toward the opposite wall. No doubt Remus had no wish to be in a confined space with him, and Severus wasn’t going to press the issue by breathing down his neck. He directed the beam of the light over the stone, the shadows showing the outline of hieroglyphs carved into the wall.

“There’s an inscription over here,” he said, brushing sand away to reveal the pictographs. “‘This is my son, my first born, my beloved, with whom I have been satisfied.’” He paused, unable to believe what he was reading. “It’s the beginning of the Pyramid Texts! But... these were only inscribed in the tombs of pharaohs.”

Remus moved closer, but he kept a careful distance from Severus as he peered at the pictographs, frowning in concentration. “Well... maybe this means I was half-right. There is a tomb here, just not Imhotep’s.” He sounded a little disappointed, but then he straightened and drew in a deep breath. “Still, finding an unknown pharaoh’s tomb is nothing to sneeze at.” 

“No, it isn’t,” Severus agreed huskily, fully aware of how Remus was avoiding getting too close to him. “You should be very pleased. Especially if this is a pharaoh of whom there is no previous record; that will make it more important than even Tutankhamen’s tomb.” 

He was glad for Remus, although it ached for him to know that he wouldn’t be around to share Remus’ joy in his discovery. “I’ve never heard of one with a trap door like the one we fell through, either, so you’re going to be quite the sensation. Assuming we can get out of here so that you can tell the world about it.” 

Continuing to his right, Severus traced the progression of the texts onto the next wall, which lay along the direction in which Remus had been excavating. There were more texts engraved, but instinct told him that this was the direction toward the tomb. Turning, he offered Remus the torch, making sure to leave enough of it free so that Remus wouldn’t be forced to touch him. “You should take the lead. This is your discovery, after all. I’m just following along until we get out.” 

“Thanks.” Remus took the torch and turned his attention to the texts on the wall, running his fingertips over them lightly, almost reverently. “No name yet, but I suppose we won’t get that until we’re closer to the tomb itself,” he murmured absently. 

Although Remus was focused on the wall, even the dim light couldn’t hide the fact that he was distracted, his features lacking the intensity of concentration that Severus had become familiar with. After a minute or two, he seemed to give up, and he whirled to face Severus again, his expression as close to a glare as his mild face ever got. 

“What was it?” he demanded. “What did I do or not do that kept you from trusting me? I thought I had proved I was your supporter, not your competitor. That your successes made me as proud and happy as if they were my own. That I... cared about you, not about your family or your past.” He shook his head with visible disgust. “Yet as soon as something went wrong, you turned on me like everything I’d done meant nothing.” 

Severus stepped back, as shocked by the sudden vehemence as if Remus had slapped him. He would have preferred a physical assault; if Remus would have been satisfied with pummelling him bloody, Severus would have taken it without a murmur of protest. But this... this was much harder. To answer Remus would mean exposing the weakest, most vulnerable parts of himself.

It was extremely difficult for Severus to allow himself to appear weak in front of anyone. He’d seen what happened to people who didn’t look strong; they ended up as victims in life, and that was unacceptable to him. There had been plenty of people who tried to bully him in school, but he’d fought back hard, not letting them get away with touching him. Oh, they might make him the butt of their cruel taunts, and often had, but after a time, the brutes learned to never touch him, or he would give back just as good as he got. Thus Severus had become a loner, not making close friends and rarely trusting anyone. Then one of the few people he _had_ trusted implicitly had betrayed him and everything he had ever worked for. 

And now Remus was asking for... no, almost demanding that Severus lay himself open, to admit his failings and open himself up to Remus’ scorn for his weakness. Severus would as soon cut off his arm as do something like that.

Yet looking into Remus’ face, seeing the revulsion where once there had been real affection - something Severus had never had from anyone but his mother - he felt a sense of loss so profound that it made him want to curl up and die. He knew Remus would never feel about him as he had before, but perhaps if Severus told him, Remus wouldn’t hate him any more. That, he thought, might be enough to help him go on.

Turning his face away, Severus shook his head. “It wasn’t you... or anything you did or didn’t do, unless it was seeming too good to possibly be real.” He drew in a breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “It was my own insecurity and self doubt. My... weakness.” He raised his head, looking at Remus finally. “How can I trust anyone when I can’t even trust myself?”

Remus went still, just looking at Severus for a long moment, and then he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know whether I’m more relieved or saddened by that,” he said at last. 

Severus winced and turned away. “As I said, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know that I could ever make you understand just how sorry I am.”

“Why?” Remus asked, displaying the same annoying persistence that he had since they’d met. “Why are you so sorry? Merely because the infallible Dr. Snape was actually wrong about something? Or is there some other reason?” 

“I’ve been wrong about a great many things in my life,” Severus said, shrugging dismissively. He drew in a breath, knowing he’d come too far to back down now. “No, I’m sorry because I caused you pain. Caused us both pain. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and it cost me more than I ever imagined - and it was all because I was afraid that you were the one person who could tempt me into doing what my father could not.”

“And what is that?” The sound of shifting sand was audible as Remus took a couple of steps closer. 

“Giving in,” Severus replied, his voice low and deep and full of pain. “He nearly got away with it, you know. He _would_ have, but he made a mistake. He came to me; I was so bitterly angry over the fact that our work, the product of _years_ of labor, was gone that I wasn’t even thinking straight. He started talking about how whoever had the artifacts would be rich, that they would have the treasures of a king around them.” 

He gave a shuddering sigh, and then he turned and raised his eyes at last to met Remus’. “Then he told me what he’d done, and he said that I should come with him. He painted this picture... all those treasures, the ones we’d dug out with our own hands... they were _ours_ , he said. We’d earned them by searching for them, by finding them, sweating over them and bringing them up after they’d lain for five thousand years in the cold ground. God... I was tempted! It’s my work, my life... they aren’t just objects, they’re history, a real, touchable part of where we came from and who we were. _My_ heritage... I could feel it in my blood and bones, calling to me to give in. It wasn’t about the money; it was about... having. Hoarding the history all for myself and not having to share it with anyone. I resisted, but it was hard. Hard to give up the temptation to play pharaoh, to be a king, if only in my own mind. Then this... and you.” 

With another weary, defeated shrug, Severus uttered the words that he knew would probably earn Remus’ utter scorn. “It all came back to haunt me. How I’d trusted my father, how he’d betrayed our work and then tempted me to do it, too. He couldn’t, though... but I knew that you could. I’ve never been able to deny you anything, no matter how hard I struggled, no matter how I tried to run. I had to fight, to be angry with you, because if you had offered me the same thing as my father had, I knew I’d never be able to tell you no. And that would destroy the last remnants of self-respect I’ve managed to retain since it happened.”

There was another lengthy pause, and when Remus spoke at last, his voice was quiet but firm. 

“Just tell me one thing: do you really think I would steal anything and tempt you the same way your father did?”

“After the panic and paranoia went away, of course not,” Severus replied at once. “All I was really thinking about was myself, about my weakness, and the stupid circumstantial bits and pieces became this huge, looming spectre in my mind, and I... I panicked. Because it wouldn’t have mattered if anyone else in the world had taken the damned things... only if you had, and I built it up in my mind that because no one like you could ever really want someone like me, it all made some horrible, twisted kind of sense. That I was being punished somehow for daring to believed that someone could ever really care about me the way you seemed to. Because for the first time, someone else meant more to me than my reputation, than my work, and that made me... weak. Foolish and weak.”

“How does that make you weak?” Remus asked. “Your father was the weak one, as are all men and women who use others for their own gain. His greed _wasn’t your fault_ , and you _were_ strong enough to resist him. You underestimate yourself and your own strength - and your appeal. Weakness and foolishness lie in running away and hiding. It takes real strength to care despite the risks, despite the obstacles, despite knowing you might lose. I took that risk with you, even though I knew you were damaged. I hoped I could get through to you somehow and that the damage wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t learn to trust me and perhaps even care for me. So tell me, was that my foolish, weak mistake?” 

“No...” Severus’ head snapped up, and he felt another twist of the knife in his gut, hearing how Remus truly had cared for him and knowing that he’d managed to wreck that beyond repair. “It wasn’t your mistake; it was mine. You didn’t know how I’d nearly managed to betray everything I believed in. You couldn’t know that deep down inside, I’m more like my father than I want to be! I did trust you... I do trust you. I just don’t trust myself.”

Remus threw up his hands and rounded on Severus, an impatient edge in his voice. “Will you listen to yourself? You’re blaming yourself for something you didn’t even do! So you thought about joining your father. I’m sure most people would have to wrestle with that same temptation if they were faced with it. But the important thing is that you said no to temptation and to your father. If you really were like him, you couldn’t have - wouldn’t have done that! You’re _nothing_ like your father. If you were, I wouldn’t have tried as hard as I did to make things work. Your only problem is that you’ve let yourself be ruled by fear and the ghost of your father for far too long.” 

Remus’ words were something of an absolution, but Severus knew that they came far too late. He’d already bungled things into ruin, and so he felt no lessening of either his pain or his self-loathing.

“Perhaps,” he said, giving weary sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. “For what it’s worth, thank you for saying so; it’s generous of you, considering my reprehensible behavior. You did try hard - harder than anyone - and I’m sorry that I managed to destroy everything. I’m sorry that your efforts were repaid by nothing but grief.” He dropped his hand. “Let’s figure out how to get out of here, shall we? While I still have enough self respect to bother making the effort.”

“No.” Remus’ voice was implacable, punctuated by a firm shake of his head. “This conversation isn’t over. You can say you’re sorry all you like and talk about how badly you’ve fucked things up, but that isn’t the important thing. What I want to know now is what you intend to do in the future. Are you going to keep on letting your father control you and giving in to fear or are you going to be strong and put it behind you once and for all?” 

“No, I’m not going to be influenced by him any longer,” Severus replied, giving a slight shrug. He didn’t know why it mattered, really, but he had learned his lesson in the most painful way possible. “I’m putting it behind me as best as I can, and I’m leaving Saqqara for good. It’s time to get the hell out of here and find something else to do.”

“Then you’re running again.” Remus fell silent, and the mask slipped enough to let Severus see the conflict going on behind it, giving him a glimpse of Remus’ own vulnerabilities. After a moment, Remus swallowed hard and drew himself up, as if bracing himself. “If I said you could have a second chance with me, what would you do?”

Severus had been about to protest that he wasn’t running - or at least not because of the reason Remus seemed to think - when Remus’ question brought him up short. He stared, unable to believe he could have heard correctly, that it must be the product of wishful thinking. His heart began pounding so loudly, he was certain Remus could hear it, and he had to clear his suddenly dry throat before he could manage to stammer a reply. “Do you mean it? You’d actually be willing to try again?”

“One chance,” Remus said, fixing Severus with a somber gaze. “You can’t do anything like this to me again, or it’s over for good.”

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Severus felt like the sun was suddenly shining even in the dim, dark tomb. He raised a hand, hesitant hope blooming on his face, then stepped forward and touched Remus’ cheek with trembling fingers. “Never again,” he vowed, almost unable to believe what was happening. “I swear it. I trust you, Remus. I never want to hurt you again.”

“Then trust yourself as much as you trust me,” Remus replied. “I mean it, I can’t - I _won’t_ go through something like this again. It’s too painful, and I won’t spend the rest of my life being a punching bag for your fears and mistrust.” 

“I’ll try.” Severus drew in a shaky breath. “I’m...not good at sharing my fears, but I promise I won’t take them out on you, I promise. I’ve learned my lesson in the most painful way possible.”

“That’s all I ask.” Remus offered a smile that was small and hesitant, but it was a start. “I don’t expect you to open up about every little thing. I just don’t want to get hit with the backlash again.”

“If you can find it in yourself to forgive me and give me another chance, that’s the least I can do,” Severus murmured. He stepped closer to Remus, framing Remus’ face with his hands and looking deep into his eyes. “I’m flawed and I have a beastly temper, but I don’t want to lose you again. I’ll probably annoy you and drive you mad, but I won’t take my own insecurities out on you again.”

“I can cope with being annoyed and driven mad,” Remus replied dryly. “I’ve also got plenty of practice in coping with your temper. That won’t be a problem.”

Severus licked his lips and nodded. “Then why don’t you kiss me before I start to get snappish? Or start to think that I died when we fell down here, and it’s my eternal torment to be tantalized by wanting but never having.”

Remus snorted at that, but then he leaned in and brushed his lips against Severus’ in a light, almost tentative kiss. 

Severus gave a soft gasp at the contact, his eyes sliding closed as he savored what he thought he’d never experience again. He was trembling, he knew it, but he didn’t care; all that mattered was that Remus was here, and that by some miracle, Remus was willing to take a chance on him again. He was going to get it right this time, no matter what it took; Remus deserved that and so very much more.

Then it was too much to bear, and with a groan, Severus buried his face against Remus’ neck, clinging to him shamelessly. Perhaps it was weak of him to _need_ Remus so much, but Remus didn’t seem to mind, and Severus knew that Remus wouldn’t mock him for it.

Remus slid both arms around him and stroked his back soothingly, holding him close. “It’s all right,” Remus murmured, brushing a kiss against Severus’ temple. “It’s over, and we’re going to move on.” 

Wrapping his arms around Remus, Severus stood, breathing in his beloved scent, afraid to let him go unless he really did wake up and find that this had been nothing more than a hopeless, wishful dream. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding Remus as though he would never let him go. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry,” he whispered thickly, his throat so tight he could barely speak. 

“I know.” Remus tightened his arms around Severus, as if he realized Severus needed the security of that embrace. “I understand, and I forgive you.”

Severus did need the embrace, and the words of absolution were a balm to his soul. He didn’t know how long they stood there, but after a time, his trembling eased, and he was able to raise his head and look at Remus apologetically. “Thank you,” he said, giving Remus another squeeze. “For taking a chance on me. Both times. You’ll never have cause to regret it again.”

“All right.” Remus smiled and gave him a little squeeze in return. “I trust you.” 

Severus drew in a deep breath, and nodded firmly. “All right... now, shall we explore your find and locate a way out? Not that I couldn’t die happy right now, but I’d prefer to delay that inevitability until we have had a few decades to celebrate.”

“So would I,” Remus agreed, releasing Severus and taking a step back. “Besides, I’d at least like to find out whose tomb this is before I join them in the afterlife.”

“I’m not ready to share you with anyone, even the dead,” Severus said. He ran a hand through his hair, then pointed at the wall they’d been examining before. “That way, I think. Do you see any seams in the wall?”

Remus aimed the torch at the wall and moved the beam of light slowly back and forth. “There...” He pointed as he moved forward, growing more animated as he approached the lavishly inscribed wall. “Do you see that? Does it look like a seam to you?”

“Yes, yes, I think it does,” Severus replied. He moved in next to Remus, their shoulders touching as he ran his fingers along the thin, straight edge. “If it’s counterbalanced, we need to find where to press. Start pushing on that side, and I’ll work on this side. Eventually we’ll hit the right spot.”

Remus gave an amused snort at that even as he began pushing as instructed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that sounded like a proposition.” 

The fact that Remus had unwound enough to make a joke was a secret joy to Severus, but he lifted a brow and offered a little smirk. “Perhaps I’m turning over a new leaf, and learning a thing or two from you,” he said, his eyes reflecting a touch of heat. “Don’t be surprised if I start going regimental under my robes.”

“Oh, really?” Remus glanced at him, both eyebrows climbing. “I suppose that means I’ll have to unpack my fedora.” 

“I’d like that,” Severus replied. “It suits you. Of course I think you look sexy in everything. Or in nothing at all.”

Remus looked momentarily taken aback, but then a slow smile curved his lips. “It looks like you really have turned over a new leaf. I don’t remember you saying anything like that before.” 

“Don’t expect me to become a completely soppy idiot,” Severus warned, then shrugged nonchalantly, even though Remus’ apparent pleasure at his compliment was a balm for his soul. “But I never want you to doubt that I do desire you, and I want you to know I’m not going to forget my promise or what it felt like when I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want my position as the official soppy idiot in this relationship usurped,” Remus replied in a lighter tone, and then he reached out and caressed Severus’ cheek gently. “But I do like the reminders that this isn’t all one-sided.”

“It’s not,” Severus said, leaning into the caress briefly. “And since my position as official snarky bastard in this relationship isn’t in any danger, I believe I can unbend enough to occasionally remind you that I know that I.... belong to you.” He felt his cheeks heating, and he lowered his gaze. 

Remus’ fingers tightened on his burning cheek, and then Remus pressed a brief but unquestioningly possessive kiss to his lips. “Yes,” Remus affirmed huskily. “You do.”

The kiss left Severus’ lips tingling and other parts of him responding as well. “Yes,” he murmured, then lifted his gaze again to search Remus’ face. “I’m relieved you still wish to lay claim to me. And any time you wish to assert that claim, I’m... eager to cooperate.”

Remus stroked Severus’ cheek gently with his thumb and nodded. “I do want to claim you, and as soon as we find a way out of here, I will.” 

“Good.” Severus was even more eager to escape now than he’d been before, and tapped the wall with one hand. “Then let’s go to it, shall we?”

Pressing near the seam, Severus tried to determine if the wall was giving at all. The mound of sand in the middle of the room didn’t extend all the way to the walls, and the floor where they stood was relatively clear, offering decent footing. When he didn’t feel any lessening of resistance, he moved slightly, his fingers tracing over the hieroglyphs, seeking any trigger point in the carvings that might indicate how the wall was opened.

“Do you feel anything... a latch or a handle?” he asked.

“No... Wait... There!” 

An audible click echoed in the darkness, followed by the ominous scrape of rock against rock. 

“Well, I triggered _something_...” Remus said wryly. 

Severus drew closer to Remus, watching in the dim light of the electric torch as the wall slowly parted and drew back. “Whoever this tomb belongs to, Imhotep definitely built it,” he said, marveling at the wall, functional after even five thousand years. “Only he could have designed this; no one else would have had the skill or imagination.”

The movement of the wall stopped after a few moments with a reverberating thud, sending a cloud of dust up into the air. Severus coughed, then gestured toward the opening, which was wide enough for three men to enter abreast. There appeared to be a corridor on the other side, and he shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know why this didn’t turn up on our soundings,” he said. “Perhaps some property of the rock confused the readings.”

“Which wouldn’t surprise me, if this place is really of Imhotep’s design,” Remus said, his voice laced with admiration as he shone the light around and examined the doorway. He turned to Severus, his face lit up with excitement and anticipation, making him look rather like a little boy in a sweet shop. “Shall we? I’m ready to find out whose tomb this is, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Severus said, the archaeologist in him catching some of Remus’ excitement - although it wouldn’t have disturbed him the slightest to leave it all behind so that they could return to camp and shag. But the way forward appeared to be the way out, and so he nodded and gestured for Remus to go first. “We should hurry, too - I don’t know how long the batteries in the torch will hold out. Unless we find another source of light, we might be groping around in the dark before long, and that will make it harder to get out.”

“Good point.” Remus nodded and led the way into the corridor, eagerly looking around. It was obvious he wanted to linger, but he quickened his pace nonetheless; no doubt he understood the dangers of being caught underground without a light source all too well.

Severus looked about, surprised at the decoration of the corridor. “Look at the painting of Nut,” he said, pointing to the stars which decorated the ceiling. They were depicted as being on the body of a woman who arched over their heads down the length of the passage. The walls depicted a river, with a boat which was being poled by a figure in a loin cloth and collar, his head shaved bald. “That’s odd, though. I can’t recall a single tomb painting of a pharaoh where he was depicted without a headdress, can you? But that must be the occupant of the tomb. Who else would be shown traveling along the river to the underworld?”

“No, I don’t remember any accounts of a pharaoh being depicted without a headdress either,” Remus replied, frowning in puzzlement. “Maybe a disgraced pharaoh? Or a relative of a pharaoh?”

“Perhaps,” Severus replied, frowning in puzzlement. Now he, too, was eager to determine who the occupant of the tomb was, since it was providing somewhat of a mystery. 

The end of the corridor was large slab of stone, also lavishly inscribed with hieroglyphs. From what Severus could see, however, they were simply the typical funerary rites of the Old Kingdom, not accounts of the deeds of the person buried within or exhortations to the gods to accept the occupant’s soul into the afterlife. 

“Hmmm... I wonder if it’s the tomb of a small child? Although this would be the most lavish one ever discovered, if so.” He gestured to the stone slab. “Think we can move that together?”

Remus smiled playfully and struck an exaggerated flex pose. “I think we can manage it. We don’t need to move the whole thing out of the way, just get it open enough for us to slip through.” 

Severus rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched, showing his amusement. He moved to one side of the slab. “Right. Let’s do it, then. If we push in the same direction, we should be able to manage it.”

He waited for Remus to get into position, and he pushed with all his might, knowing that it would take everything they had to budge such a huge stone without tools. But strangely enough the slab wasn’t as resistant as he would have thought. After a moment of pressure, it began to slide rather easily, as though designed to do so rather than being made to permanently seal the next chamber, which is what the normal function would have been.

“Odd,” he murmured, looking at Remus with a raised brow. “It’s almost as though we’re being welcomed, isn’t it?”

“Huh...” Remus ran the beam of light from the torch over the slab slowly. “That _is_ strange. I’ve never seen anything like it. Have you?”

“No... and it makes me wonder if there is a rather nasty surprise waiting for us inside,” Severus replied, then gave a fatalistic shrug. “Unfortunately that’s where we have to go, no matter what’s waiting for us... so, are you ready?”

Remus nodded resolutely and stepped forward. “I’ll go first. If any spikes shoot out of the walls, try to duck.” 

“Yes, Dr. Jones,” Severus drawled, sticking close behind Remus. “It really is too bad you don’t have the fedora for this, you realize.”

“Well... I put it away for a while,” Remus said softly as he approached the doorway, flicking the light around as if checking for potential traps before stepping inside the room beyond.

“You’ll never have to put it away again.” Severus put a hand on Remus’ shoulder, squeezing slightly. He glanced beyond him into the room, and his grip tightened. “This one definitely isn’t empty...”

Remus shone the light around the spacious chamber, and Severus could hear his sharp intake of breath - and then suddenly, he darted forward, seemingly heedless of any possible danger. 

“Severus, it’s him! Look! We’ve found him!”


	8. Chapter 8

“Him?” Severus asked, distracted by Remus’ abrupt movement, too busy hurrying after him to fully process what Remus might have seen. Then he stopped, eyes widening as he got a look at what had attracted Remus’ attention, and the reason for his excitement. His jaw dropped open, and he was tempted to rub his eyes. “Is it real? This isn’t a dream?”

“If it is, then I’m dreaming too.” Remus moved closer, looking dazed. “ I can’t believe it... We really did it!” 

Severus watched as Remus ran reverent fingers over the cartouche which adorned the huge stone sarcophagus which stood just inside the room. The hieroglyphs were incised precisely, and were unmistakable. “No, you did it,” he replied softly, then began to read the titles beneath the cartouche. “ _Chancellor of the King of Egypt, Doctor, first in line after the King of Upper Egypt, Administrator of the Great Palace, Hereditary Nobleman, High Priest of Heliopolis, Builder, Chief Carpenter, Chief Sculptor, and Maker of Vases in Chief_.”

“Imhotep,” Remus whispered reverently, letting his gaze roam over the sarcophagus as if he couldn’t believe it was real. At last, he tore his gaze away and looked at Severus, his entire face alight with joy. “We found Imhotep!” 

“No, you did,” Severus repeated firmly, although he gave a slight smile. “You had the belief and the drive and the dedication. You were the one who kept at it and never gave up. You’d have found it whether I was here or not, and I’m not about to take any credit for this. It’s yours, Remus. Yours and yours alone.”

Shaking his head, Remus turned away from the sarcophagus and strode up to Severus. “I don’t care about credit,” he said firmly. “Don’t you see? It was never about making myself famous or claiming credit for a find. I wanted to find Imhotep’s tomb partly because I wanted to solve the mystery I was certain I’d uncovered in my translation, but mostly because I want to share this-” He gestured to encompass the room. “-with the rest of the world. Imhotep was a genius, and his last act of creation deserves to be seen and studied. I don’t care if you didn’t believe my translation was right. You’re here with me at this moment to share the biggest discovery I’ll ever make, and that’s the best, most important thing as far as I’m concerned.” 

Severus inclined his head, recognizing when Remus had made up his mind about something. “Oh, very well,” he said, lips twitching. “I suppose I can bear it in that case.” Then he grew more serious. “It’s the biggest discovery anyone has ever made... and the world owes you a great deal. And... so do I.”

“I’m not sure why you owe me anything,” Remus replied, reaching out to rest his hand on the back of Severus’ neck. “But I’m sure we can reach a satisfying agreement on your method of repayment.” 

“And what might that be?” Severus asked, feeling anticipation beginning to tingle along his skin from the touch of Remus’ hand. “I am honor bound to pay my debts.”

“It’s a very big debt,” Remus said solemnly. “I think it will entail a great deal of shagging for quite a long time to come... so to speak.”

“That seems quite fair,” Severus replied, stepping closer with a smirk. “And of mutual benefit to us both.”

“I thought it might be.” Remus smiled and leaned in to kiss Severus, lightly but lingering. “But for now, I suppose we’d better focus on finding a way out.” 

Severus returned the kiss, then sighed. “I suppose so,” he said, but run a hand down Remus’ chest. “After all, that would be the responsible thing to do.”

“Responsible and potentially life-saving,” Remus said dryly, but he captured Severus’ hand and squeezed it gently. “Come on, let’s have a look around while the torch holds out. The light’s starting to get a bit weak, so we might not have much time left.” 

Severus nodded, but he didn’t let go of Remus’ hand as he glanced around the room, which didn’t seem to have any other obvious exits. Instead there were objects stacked everywhere - even the pieces of a disassembled chariot in one corner. Ornately carved and painted boxes held objects meant to supply Imhotep in the afterlife, and there were jars which Severus recognized immediately as those which held oil and grain. Other treasures, including several golden statues of various Egyptian gods, stood in niches in the wall, a veritable fortune in both money and history. 

“Look, there’s a throne over there!” he said, pointing to the farthest corner of the room from where they stood, the light picking up the lavish gilding as Remus pointed it around the room. “I’d be willing to bet that was a gift from Djoser. The Pharaoh held Imhotep in the highest esteem and rightfully so. No other pharaoh had a commoner’s name inscribed on their own statue.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Remus agreed, nodding. “From everything I’ve read, Djoser did seem fond of Imhotep.” He flashed a mischievous grin at Severus. “I wonder _how_ fond.” 

With a snort, Severus shrugged. “Who knows? The Egyptians married their own siblings, after all, so it’s not completely without merit. The Greeks are more famous in that regard, of course, but the Egyptians were always ahead of everyone else.” He gave Remus a smug smile. “This Egyptian, however, is only fond of one rather exasperating Englishman.”

“Which is fine with said exasperating Englishman,” Remus replied, chuckling. “Since he’s rather fond of one rather snarky Egyptian.” 

“That’s only because he has exquisite taste,” Severus said, giving Remus a heated glance. “And tastes exquisite, too.” The torch suddenly dimmed more, and Severus frowned. “Damn. I think we’ll have to hurry. Let’s check behind that throne. Some tombs do have secondary exits so that the workmen weren’t constantly getting into the way of those who were bringing in the funerary goods.”

Remus nodded, a hint of concern appearing in his face, and then he turned and hurried toward the throne, grasping Severus’ hand firmly to help him along. Once they reached the throne, he shone the light on it. 

“I don’t see anything promising,” he said, “but perhaps we ought to move it just in case.” 

“That works,” Severus replied. He motioned for Remus to take one side, and he grasped the arm of the other, and began to tug. “My God... I don’t think this thing is gilt... I think it’s solid gold!”

Remus grunted as he struggled with his side of the throne, pausing to shake his hair out of his face. “I think you’re right! Good God, Djoser must have been _very_ fond of Imhotep!” 

“Indeed.” Severus brushed away some of the dust on the arm and rapped it with his knuckles, his eyes widening. “It really _is_ solid gold. I don’t even want to think about how much this is worth. But unfortunately even a pharaoh’s ransom isn’t going to get us out of here.” He paused for a moment, then brushed the dust off of the seat and gestured with a flourish. “You should at least savor it for a moment, though; once the world sees this we’ll never get to touch it again.”

Remus cast a startled look at Severus, but then he grinned and shrugged. “Why not?” he said as he moved to take a seat on the throne, lowering himself gingerly as if he feared damaging it somehow. “This will probably be the only chance I’ll ever have to know what it was like to be a pharaoh.” 

“You look very regal,” Severus replied. “But you should relax. This is your throne. You are the ruler of all creation, a god made flesh to rule your subjects. You have the power of life and death at your dispensation. Lesser nobles send you tributes of the finest wares they have to offer, seeking your favor. You have consorts and concubines, your choice of any lover you desire, for none dare refuse you. The world trembles at your feet, and so does everyone who looks upon you.”

“Oh, really.” Remus arched one eyebrow, appearing amused by Severus’ game, but then he leaned back in the throne, arranging his arms and legs in a casual pose. “Do _you_ tremble when you look upon me?” 

“Yes,” Severus replied huskily. There was something about Remus sitting on the throne, looking every inch the powerful man Severus’ words had painted him, that made his heart pound in his chest. “No one else makes me feel the way that you do. No one else makes me want to fall to my knees and worship them.”

Remus held up the torch, his expression questioning. “What about the light?” he asked. “We still have to find a way out.” 

A war between practicality and lust raged within Severus, and the cold loneliness of the last two weeks decided him.

“There’s time,” he said, opening his satchel and blessing whatever deity had caused him to empty everything from his bedside table into it. He pulled out the bottle of lube that had been there, then dropped the satchel to the ground and approached Remus, holding it out like an offering. “We’ll get out, but if you don’t take me now, I think I’ll die.”

“ _Lube_?” Remus stared at the bottle incredulously, and then he laughed. “If I didn’t know you better, I might be jealous. As it is, I’m dying to know how you came to have lube in your bag.” 

Severus shrugged, feeling his face heat up. “I was packing to leave, and I emptied everything into my bag before coming to find you. It’s the only reason I had the torch, too.”

“Well, it’s brilliant. Perhaps this isn’t the smartest thing for us to do under the circumstances, but...” Remus reached out and caressed Severus’ flushed cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you, too,” Severus replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned into Remus’ hand. “Please, won’t you let me show you how much?”

Remus rested the torch on the arm of the throne and leaned back again, his expression turning haughty. “Yes, my consort, I will allow you to show me. Please your pharaoh or risk his displeasure.” 

Severus nodded, placing the lube on the arm of the throne, then stepping back slightly. He knelt, dispensing with his boots and socks quickly, then stood once more and began to unbutton his shirt. All the while, he watched Remus, letting the sight of Remus, the knowledge that Remus had forgiven him and still wanted him inflame his desire. When his shirt was open, Severus shrugged it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind him.

He’d never thought much about his body, knowing that he was thin and bony. But Remus always claimed to see him as lean and long, and it was that image of himself that he played to, not to the insecure one with which he’d lived for years. Remus was the Pharaoh, and Severus was his favored consort, the one who had impressed him more than all the others Remus could have had instead. Severus’ chin came up, and he let Remus see his desire, his confidence in Remus’ desire for him as he unfastened his trousers, pushing them, along with is underpants, down and off. Then he walked toward Remus, letting his hips sway, unashamed of his arousal, wanting Remus to know just how much Severus desired him and wished to please him.

Remus stretched out his hand and stroked Severus’ bare hip, desire and appreciation rising in his eyes. “Very good,” he murmured, lifting his gaze slowly to Severus’ face. “Now how do you intend to prove how much you missed me and how much you desire me?” 

Severus shivered at the touch of Remus’ warm hand, but it was from need. “Like this,” he replied, lowering himself slowly to his knees before Remus. He unfastened Remus’ trousers, freeing his arousal, then, holding Remus’ eyes, bent his head and engulfed Remus in the wet heat of his mouth.

Groaning, Remus buried his fingers in Severus’ hair, stroking gently and offering silent encouragement. Severus slowly drew back, then lowered his head again, drawing Remus in and then releasing him in a slow, tortuous rhythm. He wanted to drive Remus to the brink but not over, wanted to inflame him to the point to where Remus could think only of burying himself in Severus’ body and giving him the release he craved. But he quite enjoyed this, as well, knowing that Remus was his and his alone to touch, to taste, to give pleasure in any and every way he could imagine.

Remus’ groans turned into moans, and he began to rock his hips, his body growing tense with need; it may have been several weeks, but Severus hadn’t forgotten the clear signs that Remus was nearing the edge. 

Slowly Severus released him, pulling his head back and gazing at Remus with naked hunger. “Please, my Pharaoh,” he said, rising to his feet. “Please take your pleasure in me.”

“Then prepare yourself and me,” Remus commanded, picking up the bottle of lube and holding it out. “And then sit in my lap so I may please us both,” he added, his smile turning lascivious. 

Severus took the bottle and opened it, then began to do as Remus ordered. His skin was flushed and damp, and he couldn’t believe how arousing it was for Remus to be sitting there, watching him as he made himself ready. He did so as quickly as he could, his need building to a fever pitch, and then he poured lube into his hand and stepped closer to Remus, reaching down and wrapping his long fingers around Remus’ arousal, coating him generously.

The seat of the throne was deep and wide, which made it easy for Severus to move into position, his legs on either side of Remus’ as he knelt above Remus, feeling more wanton than he ever had in his life. Then he lowered his hips slowly, taking Remus into his body in one long, smooth motion. Grabbing Severus’ hips, Remus rocked up, growling as he seated himself deep and held Severus in place, refusing to let him move. 

“Kiss me,” Remus demanded. “Show me how much you want me to take you.” 

Severus wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders, and with a moan, he lowered his head, parting his lips as he devoured Remus’ mouth, putting his heart and soul into it, wanting Remus to know exactly how much he was desired and how desperately Severus wanted Remus to claim him in every possible way. Remus clamped one hand on the back of Severus’ head as he parted his lips and returned the kiss with equal hunger - and then he took control of the kiss, claiming Severus’ mouth and turning the kiss into something deep and possessive.

This was what Severus wanted, what he needed - the feeling of Remus claiming him, body and soul. He groaned into the kiss, melting submissively against Remus, giving into the claim eagerly. Remus might never know just how completely Severus was his in that moment, how perfectly everything within him fell into place, his heart flying free and sailing into Remus’ keeping forever after.

Tightening his fingers in Severus’ hair, Remus braced his back against the throne and braced his feet on the floor, and he began teasing Severus with slow, shallow thrusts meant to madden more than to satisfy, and he mirrored the motion of his hips with his tongue, seemingly trying to claim and inflame Severus to the point of desperation. 

It worked. Severus felt as if he might go mad from the way Remus was teasing him, the torture of the slow pace and insufficient pressure building his desire to a fever pitch. He wanted to plead for more, but Remus’ mouth was insistent against his, so that all he could do was make keening sounds and move restlessly, trying to send Remus deeper, trying to make him as desperate as Severus felt himself. When Remus drew back at last, he gave Severus a wicked smile before sliding one hand slowly down the length of Severus’ torso, caressing gently as if refamiliarizing himself with Severus’ body. With his gaze locked on Severus’ face, he curled his fingers around Severus’ hard length and began stroking it, his warm fingers seeming to recall exactly how Severus liked - and needed - to be touched. 

“YES!” Severus gave a heartfelt groan as Remus touched him, unable to stop himself from moving in counterpoint in an effort to relieve the aching tension. He was panting, his damp hair matted to his neck as he moved, holding Remus’ eyes, letting Remus see everything within him, his pleasure, his relief, his overwhelming need and desire for Remus himself. He held nothing back, more exposed and naked than he’d ever been to anyone in his life, and not caring if it made him vulnerable. He was safe with Remus; he could give Remus everything, every part of himself, and have no fear that it wouldn’t be returned even more fully.

Finally the tightly wound arousal within him snapped, and he cried out Remus’ name as he fell over the edge, gripped by the most powerful release he’d ever known. He clung to Remus’ shoulders as wave after wave of molten pleasure consumed him, and then when the powerful sensations subsided at least, leaving him panting, he leaned forward and placed his forehead against Remus’, trying to catch his breath.

“Perfect.” It was the only word he could manage, but it summed up everything he felt in that moment, on every imaginable level.

“That goes without saying. I’m the pharaoh, after all,” Remus teased, winding both arms around Severus and holding him close, the tenderness of his embrace belying the lightness of his words. 

Severus returned the embrace, a feeling of peace and contentment more profound than any he’d ever known settling over him like a warm blanket. Remus had given him more than he could every hope to repay, but he wanted to try - starting with making Remus feel every bit as fulfilled as Severus did at that moment.

Brushing his lips over Remus’ temple, Severus moved his mouth lower, tongue teasing the shell of Remus’ ear in the way that he knew drove Remus wild.

“The pharaoh is a very hard man,” he murmured, wriggling his arse slightly to indicate exactly what kind of “hard” he was talking about. “What can his consort do to help with that particular problem?”

Remus shivered, and he tightened his fingers on Severus’ back. “His consort can move,” he growled softly in Severus’ ear. “He knows how to use his delectable body to drive his pharaoh beyond the point of control, and that is what the pharaoh desires.” 

The growl sent pleasant shivers down Severus’ spine. “As my pharaoh wishes,” he replied, his tone deep and sultry. He felt completely wanton and abandoned, and he did as Remus instructed, lifting himself up and then plunging back down, slowly at first, but then more quickly, gauging Remus’ reaction by the heat in his eyes.

Remus grabbed Severus’ hips, urging him on, and Severus could see the heat of arousal burst into flames in Remus’ eyes, could feel Remus’ body growing taut with need. Remus’ groans escalated into an inarticulate cry as ecstasy overwhelmed him, and he clenched his fingers on Severus’ hips, yanking Severus down as he thrust up, driving himself deep, seeking and finding release in Severus’ welcoming body. 

“Yes!” Severus watched avidly as Remus came undone, fiercely satisfied to know that he could do this, could give Remus the same overwhelming pleasure Remus had given him. He captured Remus’ lips, kissing him deeply, wanting as much of a connection as possible between them in that moment.

When he pulled back, he cupped Remus’ jaw with his hand, caressing Remus’ face with wonder. “And is my pharaoh pleased?” he asked, a coy smile playing about his lips.

“Very pleased indeed,” Remus replied, smiling with lazy satiation. He paused, and then his smile widened into a mischievous grin. “I just hope Imhotep doesn’t return to punish us for putting his throne to such use. I’d hate to be haunted by an angry Egyptian genius - or worse, have a vengeful mummy following us around like in that film!” 

Severus snorted in amusement at Remus’ nonsense, but he was very pleased by the look of fulfillment on Remus’ face. “I would be shocked if this was the first time this throne was put to such a use, whether or not Djoser and Imhotep were hot for each other. And I don’t believe in ghosts or in animated mummies; we’ll be safe enough, but if you’re truly worried, I’ll protect you, no matter what or who comes after us.”

“I appreciate it,” Remus replied dryly, and then he glanced at the torch, which had grown dimmer still. “But I think we should get cleaned up as best we can and start looking for a way out again before we turn into ghosts or mummies ourselves.” 

“I suppose so.” Severus gave a dramatic sigh, then reluctantly pulled away and moved toward his clothing, making do with a few swipes of a handkerchief before getting dressed. “I think it safe to say we aren’t going to be able to move this throne, but we should be able to manage the parts of the chariot well enough.”

“You mean you still have strength and energy left after that?” Remus teased, fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket and setting about cleaning himself up. “Obviously I’ll have to do a better job of it next time.” 

Severus snorted in amusement, turning to give Remus a heated look over his shoulder as he pulled on his boots. “No, I don’t have the strength and energy, really, but I have a rather large incentive for us to get out of here. I don’t have a problem spending eternity in your company, but I’d rather it was done with us both breathing and still able to shag.”

“On that point, we’re agreed.” Remus stood and straightened and fastened his clothing, stuffing the handkerchief in his back pocket before picking up the torch and heading to the chariot. “Right, then. What do you suggest? I don’t want to risk damaging anything, but do you think we’ll be able to move these pieces ourselves without scraping or bumping them? They look a bit heavy.” 

“I think if we are careful, we can manage it together,” Severus replied, glancing about. “And I _am_ certain we won’t be able to move them without damaging them if the light goes, whereas we might be able to shuffle jars if we’re careful. There _has_ to be a way out, and I think this is the most likely place to start.” He moved into position beside a wheel and nodded to Remus. “If we lean these up against the throne, then the body of the chariot can go near the sarcophagus, and those are the biggest parts. Ready?”

Remus set the torch down, aiming it at the remnants of the chariot, and moved to the other side of the wheel. Getting a firm grip, he nodded. “Ready.” 

“On three - one, two, three!” 

Severus lifted with all his strength, and as Remus added his efforts the massive wooden wheel came up off of the floor. Logic would have dictated that they roll it, but Severus was afraid they’d do more damage if the spokes were weak or the rim didn’t fit correctly. They moved toward the throne, and Severus was relieved when they made it, setting the wheel done carefully before wiping sweat from his forehead with a hand. “Thank heavens chariots only had two wheels, not four,” he said, making a face as regarded the other wheel.

“Definitely.” Remus grimaced as he released his grip on the wheel carefully and stepped back, taking a moment to catch his breath before approaching the second wheel. “Well, at least we know what to expect this time. Ready when you are!” 

“Right.” The effort was no less the second time, and Severus stopped after they put the wheel near the first, panting. “I wish I’d had a bottle of water in my table,” he said. He frowned, noticing the light was dimming even more. “Damn. We’d better hurry!”

Nodding, Remus wasted no time in hurrying over to the cart of the chariot, and he eyed it for a moment before turning to Severus. “What do you think? Front and back or both sides? Which would be less awkward?” 

“Sides,” Severus said, not taking time to think about it now that darkness was imminent. He grasped the axle on one side as Remus took the other, and after a great deal of effort it was moved out of the way. Severus looked quickly back at the bare space they’d cleared, having just enough time for the impression of stone as solid as the rest of the room before the torch flared briefly, then the room went completely dark.

“Damn it!” Severus muttered, putting out a hand toward where Remus had been standing. “I didn’t see anything, but I can’t be certain. We’ll have to do this by touch.” He gave a small snort that wasn’t quite laughter. “Tell me, are you as good at languages if you have to read them by touch? We might be having to decipher the way out from the carvings if we can’t find it at once.”

Severus felt a tentative brush of fingers, and then Remus gripped Severus’ arm more firmly and felt his way down to Severus’ hand, clasping it. 

“I’ll do my best,” Remus said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be all right. There’s a way out, I’m sure of it.” 

“I hope so,” Severus said, doubt beginning to nag at him. It was utterly pitch black in the tomb, making him worry that he might have been a bit too optimistic about their chances. But he wasn’t about to give up yet, and he returned the pressure of Remus’ hand, then slowly started toward the corner they’d cleared. “Let’s stay together. I don’t fancy one of us getting hurt in the dark and the other having to grope around trying to locate him.”

“Well, the groping part doesn’t sound half-bad, but I agree we ought to stay together,” Remus replied, keeping firm hold of Severus’ hand. 

After a few stumbles, they managed to make it to the corner, and Severus released Remus’ hand reluctantly. “I suppose we should start feeling along the whole way. It wouldn’t hurt for it to be gone over twice, since we can’t see. One direction, then back to the corner, then to the other. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a good plan,” Remus said. “This _is_ Imhotep’s tomb, after all. There’s no telling what he built into this place - or where.” 

“Exactly,” Severus agreed. He could feel the hieroglyphs under his fingers, the edges as sharp and precise as when they’d been carved near five thousand years before. “Which also means we have to watch for dead falls and traps, unfortunately. The biggest surprise is how easily we fell in; it makes me wonder if there are skeletons under that pile of sand we landed on. Rather like a Venus fly trap, if that makes sense.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there were,” Remus said, and Severus could hear his slow, careful footsteps shifting along the sand. “It also tells me that we haven’t found the proper entrance.”

“Oh?” Severus stopped suddenly, thinking about that. “What, do you think we fell into an actual trap, not the real entrance at all?”

“Well, yes. Think about it: that door led to a rather lengthy drop. Unless they went to all the trouble of lowering everything down, there _has_ to be a true entrance somewhere. I can’t imagine they would use such an inconvenient place to bring in the throne, the chariot, and the sarcophagus. It would make much more sense to have a ground-level entrance somewhere.” 

“An excellent point,” Severus said, pleased that Remus had worked out something that made logical sense and actually might be of real benefit to them in this situation. “It could be that they sealed up the main entrance and even placed things in front of it and _left_ by the entrance we fell through. We might have just gotten lucky, knowing what we do about tombs and such, in being able to slide the wall. I doubt that most of the tomb robbers five millenium ago would have even thought to try.”

“Exactly,” Remus replied, and Severus could hear hope and excitement in his voice. “So let’s keep looking. There’s no telling what we might find.”

“Right.” With more determination than ever, Severus started along the wall once more, fingers poking and prodding into every crack and crevice. But when he made it to where his way was impeded by more of Imhotep’s funerary goods, he’d found nothing. “Let’s go back, then along the wall to the other side until we have to stop,” he said. “After that, we’ll have to move things, and it’s going to get complicated.”

He and Remus changed places, and Severus started back from where they’d come, still poking everything in case he’d missed something. “Wait,” he said, stopping suddenly. “Go lower than you did before, and I’ll go high. There’s nothing that says they had to put the entrance at ground level or make it as tall as a man. The tallest thing in here is the throne, and that’s only a meter and a half at most, and they could have brought it in tipped on one side; if the entrance was less than a meter up - or more than a meter and a half - we’d have missed it.”

“Good point! I’ll get on my knees to search.” Remus paused, and when he spoke again, Severus heard a husky, teasing note in his voice. “Of course, that does give me ideas, but I’ll save them for later.” 

Severus’ breath caught, then he chuckled. “More incentive for us to get out of here, don’t you think?” he asked, continuing with his search, this time concentrating on the area higher than he’d done before, from the height of his shoulders all the way up to the low ceiling. He could just reach the area where the wall met the ceiling, and he went more slowly, not wanting to miss anything by chance.

They reached the corner where they’d started, and Severus stopped for a moment, drawing in a breath and sighing. “Nothing,” he murmured, then shrugged, not giving up yet. “There _must_ be something, because the air in here is still fresh. Ready to go down the next wall?”

“Yes, let’s keep going,” Remus affirmed. “I’m not anywhere near ready to give up yet.” 

“Not until we’re dead,” Severus agreed firmly. He moved along the next wall, slowly and carefully, thinking about the things he wanted to do with Remus when they got out. Some of which would be impossible until they could get back to civilization and its amenities, such as a large bathtub with unlimited hot water.

He lost track of time as they continued, falling almost into a trance. It was completely dark and silent except for their own breathing. And warm; not stifling, that was one small positive, but it was almost as though they were in a sensory deprivation chamber, with touch the only sense left to them.

They were nearly at the end of the cleared area, and Severus sighed, resigning himself to having to move the precious jars out of the way to enable the rest of their search. But just as he was about to lower his hands, which were numb and cramped from the endless searching, his fingers brushed something just beneath the ceiling. It was an hieroglyph, but this one felt deeper, somehow, not like the rest of the ones he’d grown intimately familiar with.

“Wait...” Severus said, raising up on the balls of his feet to give himself a bit more reach. He was able to get two fingers into the indentation, and he curved them downward, trying to see if there was a hollow space behind, perhaps a way for the wall to move and reveal the exist. But his fingers encounter more stone, and he prodded at it, feeling hope fading away. It was probably just a natural fault in the stone, not part of Imhotep’s design at all.

“Forget it, it’s nothing,” he said in annoyance, withdrawing his fingers from the hollow. But as he did the whole chamber seemed to shake slightly, and then the deep sound of stone grinding against stone reached them, just before there was an enormous crash from behind them.

“What in the hell was that?” he asked, flinging out a hand in search of Remus. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Remus replied, sounding as startled as Severus felt. “I don’t know what it was, but it didn’t happen to me. It sounded like it came from behind us. Near the throne, maybe.” 

“I hope we didn’t just make things worse,” Severus said. His fingers encountered Remus’ shoulder, and he moved his hand down Remus’ arm to take his hand. “Stay close.”

He started toward the throne slowly, his free hand out in front of him to hopefully give him a little warning if he were going to stumble into anything. But it did him no good; his foot kicked against something and he stumbled, kept upright only by Remus’ hand in his.

“Wait... it’s one of the chariot wheels,” he said, crouching down and running his hand over the rim and spokes closest to him. “I wonder if that little tremor made it fall?”

“Could be...” Remus trailed off, and Severus heard a quick shuffling sound, as if Remus had moved suddenly. “Severus, I just felt a draft!”

“What?” Severus turned his head in Remus’ direction, not that it did him any good in the darkness. But he tilted his head to one side, raising his hands and holding them up, trying to detect any movement of the air. “You’re right. It seems to be coming from where the throne is!”

Staying low, Severus felt his way around the chariot wheel, reaching for the side of the throne. But his hand encountered only empty air. “Remus... the throne isn’t where it was, and there’s air coming up from the ground... no.. from a _hole_ in the ground!”

“Brilliant!” Remus exclaimed. “I’ll bet my fedora that’s the entrance we’ve been looking for. What better way to protect your tomb than by sealing the door with a heavy throne?” 

“It does make sense,” Severus agreed. He touched the edges of what seemed to be a square opening just slightly smaller than the throne. “What I felt must have been the trigger to move it. I think you must be correct about the design. Anyone coming in the front way would be unable to get in with several tons of solid gold sitting atop the opening! So... I guess we go down, right?”

“Well, it beats staying in here, don’t you think?” Remus replied. “We don’t have any other available options.” 

“Right,” Severus said, drawing in a deep breath. “I’ll go first. If you don’t hear anything... well, assume it was a trap and don’t follow.” 

With that, he sat down on the edge of the opening, feet in the hole, then dropped into the darkness below, hoping he’d land without killing himself. 

Fortunately he only dropped about three meters, landing with a grunt. “I’m down,” he called upward, putting out a hand to see if he could find a wall. Almost immediately he did, and he backed away from the hole. “Come on down, and we’ll figure out where to go to from here.”

He felt a whoosh of air and heard the impact of Remus’ feet and a soft grunt as Remus landed, and then he felt Remus’ seeking hand find his arm. 

“Here I am. No spikes, I see.” 

“Or snakes, Indiana,” Severus drawled, taking Remus’ hand. “Well, let’s do this. From the sound of our voices, I think we’re in a corridor. Can you feel a wall on your side?”

“Yes, I can. It’s smooth stone,” Remus replied.

“Then it goes in only one direction,” Severus said, nodding in satisfaction. “Let’s just hope that direction is out. Keep your free hand on the wall on your side, and we’ll see if we can get out of here.”

He started forward, one hand on the wall on his side. “I wonder if the walls are painted,” he said, keeping his touch as light as possible to avoid damaging anything. “They might be bare, if he was buried in much of a rush. We don’t even have a death date for Imhotep... although I suppose that will change once you can get back in there and read the engravings.”

“I hope so,” Remus replied, a note of excitement in his voice. “As eager as I am to get out of here, I’m just as eager to get back in with proper lighting and equipment.” 

“I can imagine,” Severus said, then chuckled. “Are you in the market for an experienced assistant? I am currently unemployed, as it happens, and would be available.”

“No, I don’t want an assistant,” Remus said firmly, tightening his grip on Severus’ arm. “I want a partner.” 

“Well... perhaps I could be enticed into accepting such a position,” Severus replied slowly, his tone deadpan. “Although a partner has so much more responsibility than an assistant. I trust that the compensation package will be large enough to make up for it?”

Remus chuckled and slid his hand down to clasp Severus’ hand. “I think you already have a good idea of how large the package is. I’m willing to be quite generous with it, if that sweetens the deal.” 

“That is definitely an enticement,” Severus replied, squeezing Remus’ hand. “Hmmm... I think the corridor is rising, what do you think?”

“It does feel like it,” Remus replied. “I think that’s a hopeful sign. Perhaps we’re headed toward the surface at last.” 

“Yes,” Severus agreed. He quickened their pace a bit, as eager as Remus to be out, and thus he was brought up short, bashing his rather prominent nose right into the wall which suddenly blocked his path. “Bloody hell!”

“Ow!” Remus let out a squawk that let Severus know Remus must have run headlong into the wall as well. “I’m starting to dislike Imhotep a little bit.” 

Severus rubbed at his nose. “With good reason,” he said darkly. Then he reached forward and touched the wall they’d collided with. “This seems to be the end of the line. But the air was flowing inward toward the tomb, so this is not a solid wall. It has to be a door.”

He heard Remus release a soft sigh. “Well, time to start looking for a mechanism again,” Remus said, sounding resigned.

“At least this is a smaller area,” Severus replied, giving Remus’ hand a squeeze before releasing it. He ran his hands over the surface, toward the edge on his side, and almost immediately found a catch. “Ha! Looks like he didn’t care if people got out from here - probably didn’t want the dead bodies clogging the corridor. But I don’t think this one is automatic - either that or the mechanism is broken. I think we’re going to have to push.”

“Let’s get to it, then!” 

Severus snorted, then began to push with all his might. He heard Remus grunting with effort as well, and then slowly, very slowly, the door began to move outward.

“That’s it, keep going!” Severus said, then suddenly the door gave way completely, the stone slamming back against whatever was outside. But it _was_ outside, for it was cool desert air that blew in on them, and Severus actually had to squint at the low starlight which shone down on them. 

“We’re out!” he said, pulling Remus into a tight embrace. “We made it!”

Remus flung his arms around Severus returned and briefly lifted him off his feet. “Brilliant work! Now then...” He drew back just enough that he could look around. “Where are we?” 

Severus looked around as well. He knew Saqqara better than anyone else, and he immediately identified their location. “We’re in Sekhemkhet’s pyramid,” he replied, unable to believe they’d come so far from where they’d been. “Imhotep actually built his tomb off of Sekhemkhet’s!”

Remus laughed and shook his head. “We’ve got quite a trip back to camp, then. I hope you’re up for a walk after all that.” 

Keeping his arm around Remus, Severus shook his head. “Maybe I should ask you to carry me?”

“As macho as I’d like you to think I am, I’m not sure I’m up to that,” Remus replied, chuckling. “We could take a rest here, though, and go on later. There’s no rush now that we’re out.” 

“I think I can manage to stagger back,” Severus said, giving a long-suffering sigh, although the corners of his mouth twitched. “Just one question though...”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “And what’s that?” 

Severus gave an evil grin, feeling more carefree than he ever had in his life. So much so that he didn’t really mind, for once, what anyone thought. 

“Did you happen to remember to pick up the bottle of lube from the arm of the throne?”


	9. Epilogue

Severus fidgeted slightly and discreetly tugged at the bow tie at his neck, trying to ease the tightness a bit. He felt ridiculous; he didn’t think tuxedos did a thing for him, not at his height. He felt as though he towered over the people milling about the displays in the Egyptian Gallery, standing out like some gawky stork in the midst of a bunch of penguins and peahens.

But if he thought his own appearance was awkward, the same couldn’t be said of Remus’. He glanced at the man standing beside him, admiring the way that Remus’ broad shoulders filled out the jacket of his tuxedo, the way the crisp white of his collar and tie made his skin look almost as golden as the statues around them and his eyes seem bluer than the desert sky. He couldn’t wait until the formal reception the British Museum was holding in their honor so that he could take Remus back to his flat and they could shag each other’s brains out in complete privacy and comfort.

He rather doubted that anyone except Albus would notice if they slipped away early, though. The guests weren’t really there to see Remus Lupin and Severus Snape; they were there for the true stars of the show - the “Treasures of Imhotep”, which the Egyptian government had graciously put on loan to the country of the men who had discovered them. 

It had taken them months to catalogue and cross reference the thousands of items in the tomb, but it had been a labor Severus had undertaken gladly. He’d gotten to spend the time with Remus, after all, and they’d formed a close working relationship. They were close in other ways too, of course, and although they’d shagged often and creatively, Severus was very much looking forward to a large bed, plenty of lube, and a complete lack of sand to continue their explorations of each other. 

Giving a rather forced smile to a matron clad in a rather violent shade of red that clashed with her blue hair as she gushed about the reconstructed chariot next to Severus, he leaned closer to Remus and spoke quietly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That depends,” Remus replied, keeping his voice low as well, although the heat in his eyes was unmistakable as he glanced up at Severus. “Are you thinking about sex?”

Severus’ lips curved into a smug smirk. “As a matter of fact, Dr. Lupin, I am. Specifically about that, and you, and the fact that at my flat, we won’t have to worry about scorpions, flies, or finding sand in the most unusual and inconvenient places.”

“Whereas I’m thinking about how elegant and sexy you look in that tux, and how badly I want to see you sprawled on a bed, wearing nothing but the bow tie,” Remus murmured, answering Severus’ smirk with a wicked smile of his own.

Suddenly far more was tight on Severus than just the aforementioned tie. He stepped closer to Remus, eyes gleaming with heat. “Then could I possibly talk you into leaving early? Especially if I promise to do _exactly_ as you desire?”

Remus glanced around, appearing amused, and then he nodded. “I don’t think anyone will miss us, and I’m happy to continue the celebration in a more private venue.” He paused, a rare flash of something akin to bashfulness crossing his face. “Besides, I have something for you.” 

“Oh?” Severus raised a brow, curiosity immediately aroused, more by Remus’ strange expression than his words. “Well, then, let’s be on our way. I’m eager to see what it is.”

He motioned toward the back entrance of the gallery, which was off-limits to the public. It led to the room where they’d changed into their tuxes before the reception, and also to a side exit where they could catch a taxi. They had originally been scheduled to return to England two days before the party for the Museum’s elite donors, but between delayed flights and a baggage problem at Heathrow, they’d arrived only an hour before the guests. Fortunately Albus had had the foresight to have their tuxes sent directly to the Museum; otherwise they’d have been drinking champagne and greeting the rich and titled members of London society in khaki shorts and sun hats.

But Severus was more than happy to leave it all behind. The people tonight didn’t matter as much as the academics whom they would speak with in the coming weeks, and Severus felt that he’d been sociable long enough. They managed to slip away virtually unscathed, although Severus caught an amused glance from Albus as they made their escape. There would probably be questions later, but he didn’t care. So long as it was _later_ , after he’d been thoroughly and comfortably shagged.

“This way,” he said, putting a hand on Remus’ shoulder and steering him toward the exit at the end of the hall. “We can return the tuxes and retrieve our things later. I had my flat opened by a service a few days ago, so it should have everything we need.” He cocked his head to one side. “Minus the whip and fedora, unfortunately. But there will be time for that later.”

Remus sighed wearily, appearing as relieved to approach the exit as Severus felt, but he didn’t seem too tired to smile and slide his arm around Severus’ waist. “I’ll just be glad to get off my feet... and get you on your back,” he said, a hint of a growl underlying his voice.

That growl caused Severus to shiver, but in a good way. “Believe me, I’m just as eager for that myself,” he said, his voice a silken whisper. He relaxed into Remus’ casual embrace; one thing England had over Egypt was a more relaxed attitude toward homosexuality. Severus wasn’t at all ashamed of his preference, and he’d not really tried to hide it. It had simply been a non-issue for so long that he hadn’t really thought about it. But now that he had a partner, in both the professional and personal senses of the word, he found he was eager to show Remus off. After all, he’d managed to attract and hold the attention of an intelligent and incredibly handsome man, and it made him want to preen a bit.

It wasn’t too late, and so it was easy enough to hail a taxi right outside the Museum gate. He gave the address of his flat, which was only a few miles away, then climbed into the back seat next to Remus, settling against the cracking leather with a sigh. “It won’t take long,” he murmured, putting a hand on Remus’ thigh and giving him a heated look. “Think you can survive it?”

Remus covered Severus’ hand with his own and squeezed it gently. “I think so. Thanks for letting me stay the night. I can book a hotel room if you don’t want me underfoot all day every day, but I put everything in storage and let my lease lapse on my old flat because I was hoping I’d have a reason to relocate to Egypt permanently - and it seems I do,” he added, sounding pleased.

Severus hesitated for a moment, Remus’ words the perfect opening for something he’d been hoping to discuss. It was a bit sooner than he’d planned - he’d thought about bringing it up casually after they’d shagged and Remus was relaxed and unwary - but it seemed that fate, as it had so many times during the course of their relationship, had other plans. He cleared his throat, then spoke in what he hoped was an off-handed manner.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” he said. “I keep the flat because I often come back to consult with Albus or with one of the universities for a day or two, and it’s more convenient than a hotel.” He glanced at Remus out of the corner of his eye. “In fact, it’s much too large for me, but it was my grandfather’s, and I’ve not gotten around to sorting through his things. If you’d like, perhaps we could share it. It means you would be able to get at anything you leave here more conveniently, and you’d have a place to stay if you come back to lecture.”

Remus curled his fingers around Severus’ hand and shifted on the seat to face him, regarding him curiously. “Severus, are you saying you want something permanent for us?” 

Severus wondered suddenly if he’d gotten ahead of himself, and he frowned, cursing himself for not waiting. He had a flash of panic that Remus might refuse - or worse, might decide that Severus’ suggestion was an indication of some weakness - but he clamped down on it. He’d promised Remus that he wasn’t going to let his insecurities get the better of him ever again, and so he drew himself up very straight and faced Remus directly.

“Yes,” he replied. “But if you don’t, I’m not going to pressure you. If you are content with things as they are, that’s fine.”

Instead of answering aloud, Remus captured Severus’ face between his hands and drew him into a kiss that wasn’t deep, but it was warm and tender. When he drew back at last, he gazed at Severus with an affectionate smile and a sparkle in his blue eyes. 

“In case you couldn’t tell,” he said with gently wry humor, “that was a yes.” 

Severus nodded solemnly, pleased and relieved at Remus’ reaction, but also realizing what a big step it was. “Good,” he said, looking at Remus somberly. “I realize I’m not the easiest man to be involved with, but I’ve been making an effort. I hope that when I fail, you’ll be able to remember that.”

“I know you have,” Remus assured him, clasping his hands again and squeezing them lightly. “But it’s like I said back in Imhotep’s tomb: I’m aware of what’s involved in being with you, and I’m willing to deal with it as long as you don’t vilify me again. You aren’t perfect, and neither am I, but we’ve done well enough so far, and I don’t think that will change once we’re under the same roof.”

“I hope it won’t.” Severus drew in a deep breath, glad that Remus understood and that he was willing to take a chance. He returned the pressure of Remus’ hands, giving a slight smirk. “Besides, it will definitely make the shagging more convenient, at least when we’re here. Perhaps we’ll be able to work out something for when we’re in Egypt as well.”

“I’d like that.” Remus smiled and tightened his grip on Severus’ hands. “I know it won’t always be easy for either of us, but I want to be with you, and I mean that in an ‘until death do us part’ kind of way, whether we’re in England or Egypt.” 

“You do?” Severus felt his heart suddenly begin to pound in his chest, unable to believe that not only was Remus willing to live with him, but that Remus wanted even more than Severus had asked for. He didn’t think he’d have been able to step that far out on a limb, at least not yet, and it said much about Remus’ certainty of either Severus or of himself that Remus could. “I... I would find that acceptable,” he said, the casualness of his reply belied by the fierce light in his eyes.

“Good.” Remus’ smile widened, and he leaned forward to kiss Severus, lightly and lingering this time. “Then it sounds like we’ve expanded our partnership indefinitely, and...” He drew back and released Severus’ hands so he could reach into his pocket. “I think that’s my cue to give you this.” 

He drew out a small white box tied with a green ribbon and held it out, offering it to Severus with a hopeful smile.

Severus returned Remus’ kiss, then his eyes widened when Remus produced the box. He accepted it, turning it over in his hands for a moment as he tried to get his breathing under control. Finally he managed to untie the ribbon, opening the box and lifting out the contents.

The passing streetlights gleamed on the polished silver of the wide cuff, sparkling off the hieroglyphs etched on its surface. Severus ran his fingers over them, translating the inscription easily, murmuring the words under his breath.

“My hand is in his hand. I wander together with him to every beautiful place.”

The words were ones that Severus knew instantly, having discovered them himself, etched into the sarcophagus of Djoser’s queen. But it was the intention behind them that made Severus’ breath catch, and the fact that Remus thought the words of the ancient Egyptian love poem appropriate for them. Because the poem spoke not of wandering the Earth, but the planes of the eternal afterlife, forever.

“Thank you,” Severus said, his voice low and deep. He put the cuff onto his wrist and held it up for Remus to see. “‘My heart is glad beyond measure,’” he continued, quoting from the same poem. “‘I will not tear myself away.’”

“Good,” Remus said softly, reaching out to touch the cuff and running his finger along the inscription. He was silent for a moment, and then he glanced sidelong at Severus, his expression half-inquisitive and half-mischievous. “I’m glad to give you this at last, but it’s a gift that didn’t get an auspicious start.” 

Severus raised a brow, wondering what Remus meant. “Oh?” he asked, not certain he wanted to hear the answer.

“Mm-hmm.” Remus mirrored Severus’ arched eyebrow even as he twined his fingers with Severus’. “Do you remember the night I went into town and wouldn’t tell you any details about it the next morning? Well, I wanted to do something to commemorate your big find, so I went to commission a special piece of jewelry,a one-of-a-kind piece that would be a memento of your discovery of the queen’s tomb. It took a while for the jeweler and me to decide on a design we both liked, and it took a while to make as well, but I finally got to pick it up, and I’ve been waiting for a good moment to give it to you. This seemed like the moment,” he said simply. 

Severus listened, feeling a painful tightening in his chest as he thought about the night Remus mentioned - one of the worst nights of his life, followed by what was definitely the worst day. He wanted to squirm, knowing that his mistake was even bigger than he remembered. But he focused on the fact that Remus had forgiven him, that they had moved beyond Severus’ horrid mistake and now were standing on the brink of the future. Together.

“It will always remind me of... forgiveness,” he replied, clinging to Remus’ hands.

“Just remember that my hand will always be in your hand,” Remus replied softly, his expression somber. “That’s all I ask.”

“And mine will always be in yours.” Severus raised one of Remus’ hands to his lips, brushing a kiss to the backs of his fingers as he held Remus’ gaze. The taxi slid to a halt, and he glanced outside, surprised that they’d arrived at his building. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “We’re home. Would you like to come up and see my etchings?”

“I’d like to see a lot more than your etchings,” Remus said, a playful note creeping back into his voice, “but that’ll do for a start.” 

“You can see anything you’d like - and have it, too,” Severus replied. He paid the taxi driver, who gave him a grin, then opened the door and stepped out of the taxi, holding out a hand to help Remus alight. 

Remus accepted his offered hand and climbed out of the cab, pausing to stretch and then smooth his jacket before offering Severus his arm. “Home,” he said, smiling up at Severus with unfettered affection. “I like the sound of that.” 

Severus took Remus’ arm, and returned the smile. “So do I,” he replied quietly, as they headed towards the building. Towards a new life. “So do I.”

-end


End file.
